


Generations

by VTsuion



Series: Between the Voyages [8]
Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Aging, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drama & Romance, Friendship, M/M, Married James T. Kirk/Spock, Movie: Star Trek Generations (1994), Recovery, Star Trek: Generations Fix-It, old married spirk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:20:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22120987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VTsuion/pseuds/VTsuion
Summary: For eighty years, Captain James T. Kirk was trapped in an illusion in a temporal nexus. To him, it hardly felt like hours before he was rescued by Captain Jean-Luc Picard, but outside the world went on without him. Now he's free, after recovering from some broken bones, and has to figure out what to do in the 24th century. Thankfully he has some help from the crew of the USS Enterprise-D and a few old friends.If you're not interested in the crew of The Next Generation and their interactions with The Original Series characters, I've also put together an abridged version of this story,A Long Awaited Reunion, that just focuses on the characters from The Original Series and Kirk and Spock's relationship.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Between the Voyages [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1325279
Comments: 81
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I first heard about Kirk’s death in Star Trek: Generations I’ve had plans to fix it, and now that I’ve finally seen the movie (and some of Star Trek: The Next Generation), I’ve finally been able to put those plans onto paper. Without further ado, I give you my version of what happens if Kirk simply doesn’t die at the end of Star Trek: Generations.

Captain James Kirk struggled into awareness with a groan. Everything felt fuzzy and distant; the over-bright lights, the dull ache that permeated his entire body - what had he gotten into? Even his bond with Spock had faded away so much he could barely feel it. He struggled to remember where he was and what was going on. He’d had the strangest dream, and before that… Was he still on the _Enterprise-B_ , in their sickbay?

He tried to reach out to Spock, for some semblance of order in all the uncertainty, but there was nothing. His heart leaped into his throat, suddenly beating much faster. Spock couldn’t be dead, he would _feel_ it.

He forced his heavy eyelids open despite the searing bright light.

“Captain Kirk, you’re finally awake,” a woman said from just on the edge of his vision.

He tried to prop himself up on an unsteady arm to get a better look at her. She was attractive, with bright orange hair, in her forties, if he had to guess, watching him with a worried, almost nervous expression. She looked like a doctor or nurse in scrubs over a strange uniform that he recognized from somewhere, but on her chest was a pin with the Starfleet insignia. His first thought was an alternate universe, but somehow that didn’t quite sit right.

"Not so fast, Captain," she cautioned, her hands out to help him lie back down.

Despite his protesting muscles, he still had a little pride, enough to carefully lower himself onto his back without any assistance. Her exasperated expression suggested he was hardly her first stubborn patient, but she didn't interfere. Once he was settled, she stood next to him so he could see her clearly without straining his neck.

"I wouldn't be on the starship _Enterprise_ , would I?" Kirk asked, not entirely serious just in case.

She answered with a faintly bemused smile of her own, "Not quite. This is the United Starship _Farragut_. I'm Dr. Beverly Crusher."

Kirk's eyes widened a little in surprise. It was quite the coincidence - if it was one - waking up on a ship that shared its name with the first starship he'd ever served on, whose crew had been ravaged by a sentient gaseous cloud that Kirk, as a young Lieutenant, had been unable to stop.

"I see," he remarked at last, as lightly as he could.

"How much do you remember?" the doctor asked gently.

"Other than waking up in the nicest sickbay in the Federation?"

Dr. Crusher seemed amused if not convinced. "Your reputation precedes you, Captain."

"All good, I hope. And you can call me Jim.” A little more darkly, he added, "I'm retired now anyway."

Her expression quickly changed from exaggerated annoyance at his teasing to something more serious, almost pitying. "You've traveled a long way in what must seem to you like a very short time. It may come as a bit of a shock."

He nodded for her to continue.

"Do you remember the launch of the _Enterprise-B_?"

"Yes."

When she continued, she spoke very carefully, "According to our historical records you died saving the ship from a gravimetric distortion."

"But I take it I'm not dead," he said with just a touch of mischief.

"Yes." She gave him a somewhat weak smile. "According to Captain Picard, you were stuck in a 'temporal nexus.' To you it may have seemed like just minutes, but" - she hesitated - "You were in there for almost 80 years."

Kirk nodded along almost blindly. It hadn't been a dream, then. He remembered Captain Picard and an incredible place that wasn’t quite real. Maybe that could even explain whatever had happened to his bond with Spock, he only hoped it hadn't broken. Just a few years after Spock’s death had almost been enough to drive him mad, he couldn’t imagine what eighty years would do, even to a Vulcan.

"It's 2371 now," Dr. Crusher said.

That was about 80 years. "I guess I have a lot of catching up to do," he said with half a smile.

"Let's worry about getting you a clean bill of health first. You took a bad fall while fighting Soran" - she glanced at him to check if the name was familiar.

He nodded. He could remember the man Picard had taken him out of the Nexus to fight, who had been desperate to return to it.

"Your bones are mostly healed," the doctor continued, "But you should take it easy for a little while, which shouldn't be too hard. Right now, the _Farragut_ is just taking the crew of the _Enterprise_ back to Earth, since our ship was destroyed in the attempt to stop Soran."

Kirk couldn't help but smile a little at the coincidence that another starship called _Enterprise_ had been destroyed in exchange for the life of another old captain. "It wasn't the Klingons, was it?"

"Strangely enough, yes, the Duras sisters" - she attempted to clarify, "Rebels against the Empire." At last she said sympathetically, "A lot has changed in eighty years."

Kirk nodded. “I’m sure it has.”

"If you need anything or have any questions, just ask," Dr. Crusher said, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"I don't suppose I could have a computer terminal?"

"Of course. You must have a lot of questions."

Dr. Crusher soon returned with a PADD, much sleeker than the ones from his time on the Enterprise. "You can use this to access the computer library. I also noticed your record says you're allergic to Retnax, so I replicated these for you." She handed him a pair of standard reading glasses.

He accepted the glasses much more reluctantly than the PADD, but he thanked her with a smile all the same.

Once Dr. Crusher had moved on to her next patient, Kirk put on the glasses and turned to the PADD. "Computer, status of Captain Spock."

"Did you mean Ambassador Spock?" it replied with the same feminine voice the computer had when he started as a captain.

Kirk smiled. He couldn't say he was surprised by Spock’s promotion. He wondered if the Federation wasn't also at peace with the Romulans now that Spock had something to say about it.

"Yes," Kirk said. "Status of Ambassador Spock."

He was alive - Kirk let out a breath of relief. The computer listed pages and pages of accomplishments; conferences and treaties, but no mention of what he was currently doing.

"Current location of Ambassador Spock," Kirk attempted, but it turned up no answers.

Spock couldn't be dead, he would feel it - wouldn't he? Maybe Spock was missing like Kirk had been for all those years - _eighty years_ \- or on some classified mission. Kirk would find out one way or another, if only he could somehow let Spock know he was back.

The computer, at least, seemed to hold no answers. So, instead, he alternated between sleeping - he was still recovering after all - and looking into who else was still around.

Dr. McCoy had retired to Georgia and was still living there today, if his Starfleet record was to be believed. Living to 140 wasn’t the strangest thing listed, and Kirk had been there for a lot of the other things, so maybe it wasn't so surprising he'd lived so long. He would be surprised to see Kirk again.

Scotty, as it turned out, had disappeared like Kirk had, in his case due to a transporter malfunction not long after the launch of the _Enterprise-B_ , and had also been rescued by the _Enterprise-D_ just a few years ago. Apparently, he'd hardly aged either. Now, he was travelling the galaxy in a modified shuttlecraft.

Kirk was reading through Scotty's reports - including plenty of commentary, of course - on all the places he had visited when he was interrupted by Captain Picard.

"Captain Kirk, Beverly told me you were awake," the captain said as he stepped over to Kirk’s bed.

Kirk put down the PADD and pushed himself upright. His body was still sore, but he was feeling much better. "Please, call me Jim," he said, once he was comfortable.

"If you're certain." A little less awkwardly, Picard asked, "How are you doing?"

"Good for a man who was last reported dead," Kirk said with a grin. "I see you rescued my chief engineer from a similar predicament."

"Your chief engineer?" Picard asked. His eyes widened as it dawned on him. "You mean Montgomery Scott? I forgot he served on the Enterprise at the same time you were there. And you both..." he trailed off. "It's an incredible coincidence."

"I'd say, but stranger things happen in space."

Picard shook his head in bewilderment.

"I don't suppose you've had a chance to meet Ambassador Spock too?" Kirk asked as lightly as he could.

"Oh, yes, he was your First Officer, wasn't he?"

Kirk nodded. "Do you know where he is?"

Picard's face fell. "I'm sorry, that's classified information. I would have to check with an admiral."

Kirk waved it off - he was sure he'd have a chance to ask for himself.

Picard hesitated before changing the topic - "Do you know if Antonia…?" He left the question hanging.

"Antonia?" Kirk asked, frantically trying to remember the woman that belonged to the name.

Picard looked dumbfounded, as though it should have been obvious and the name sounded familiar, like something from a dream… And then it clicked and Kirk couldn't help but give a silent chuckle.

"I never really knew an Antonia," Kirk said at last.

"But you said you almost married her," Picard protested.

Kirk shook his head. "I might have married Edith or Ruth, or maybe even Carol, and I even spent a month married to Miramanee, but I never knew an Antonia."

Picard hesitated again. At last he admitted, "What I saw in the Nexus wasn't real either."

Kirk nodded. After a moment’s pause he smiled and said, “Thank you for getting me out of there. I wouldn’t have thought to try and free myself.”

“I needed your help more than you needed mine. I wouldn’t have been able to defeat Soran on my own, so thank you.”

“We can call it even,” Kirk suggested.

Picard nodded in agreement. “You really put up a fight out there.”

“It’s all in the swing,” Kirk suggested with a wry smile.

“I think I’ll stay on the bridge, if it’s all the same.”

Kirk let out a sigh and leaned back a little against the pillows he was using to prop himself up. “There’s nowhere better.”

* * *

"Captain Kirk." A beautiful young woman who he had seen making the rounds through sickbay stopped by Kirk's bed. She had a pleasant accent, though he couldn't place it. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Counselor Troi."

Kirk removed his reading glasses, set aside the PADD, and sat up a little taller to face her properly. "Nice to meet you, Counselor, what can I do for you?"

"I just want to see how you're settling in. You've been through a lot in what may feel like a very short time," she said, as though in an attempt to pacify him.

Kirk nodded, but gave nothing away.

She continued, undeterred, "I am also half Betazoid and therefore have some empathic abilities. I can sense that you're uncomfortable about something."

An empathic counselor, that sounded almost as annoying as a Vulcan, and at least a little intriguing. For an instant, Counselor Troi detected what seemed to be a clumsy attempt at a telepathic broadcast of mischief and affection underlaid with a mess of other emotions that she didn’t have time to analyze, all coming from the old captain. It didn't seem to be directed at her, but she couldn't detect its intended recipient. And then it was gone.

Kirk shook his head and gave her a smile. "Those abilities must come in handy as ship's counselor," he remarked.

"They are very useful," she acknowledged, "But there's a lot more to the job." She turned her attention back to Kirk's psyche; "Eighty years is a long time. How do you feel about this sudden disruption in your life?"

"What is, is, what will be will be."

Troi could sense that it was like a familiar joke that he was using to deflect her questions. It was a strange use of Vulcan philosophy, though that would explain the attempted telepathy.

"You have an interest in Vulcan philosophy?" she asked.

"A little. Mostly just a good friend who happens to be half-Vulcan." He smiled to himself at the thought and Troi felt a wave of affection.

"You are referring to Ambassador Spock?"

Kirk nodded.

"You seem to care very much for him," she stated the obvious. "How do you feel about having been away for so long?"

"I would feel better if I knew where he was," Kirk replied with a pointed look.

"I sense you are concerned," she said, clearly intending him to elaborate.

However, he took an alternative, "I'm not very familiar with Betazoid telepathy. You can sense all the emotions of everyone in this room?"

She nodded. "It's similar to your sense of hearing. The closer someone is and the stronger the emotion, the more it affects me."

"You experience it too?"

She nodded. "Yes. Do you have a particular interest in telepathy?"

"It's a useful ability," he said, avoiding his primary interest altogether.

"It is." After a moment’s consideration, she said "It was nice meeting you, Captain Kirk," and held out a hand to shake.

"Likewise, Counselor," Kirk said with a smile.

"I look forward to talking with you again," she said and moved on to the next patient.

* * *

"You're all clear," Dr. Crusher declared, finally allowing Kirk to sit up and slide off the examination table.

"Thank you, doctor," he said, though he was too stubborn to accept the proffered arm. "It's been a pleasure."

She gave him a look, but the trace of a smile ruined the effect. "You're free to walk around, but be careful, your bones are still fragile while they finish healing. No strenuous activity for a few weeks at least. And I want you to come in here at the first sign of any trouble. Understood?"

"Yes ma'am," Kirk said.

"Good, then you're clear to go."

Kirk had just one more question; "I don't suppose you know anyone who could give me a tour of the ship?"

She smiled. "I think I know just the person." She pressed the Starfleet insignia on her chest, that also served as a communicator. "Dr. Crusher to Data, are you busy right now?"

"No, I am not doing anything urgent at present," a somewhat stilted male voice replied over the intercom.

Data turned out to be a humanoid, with unnaturally white, almost grey skin and bright yellow eyes. His hair was as even as a Vulcan's, but more closely cropped.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain. I reviewed your record in preparation for giving you a tour," Data said very matter-of-factly as he led Kirk away from sickbay, down a long brightly lit corridor, with white walls lined with black and brown panels.

"Nice to meet you." Kirk held out a hand and Data took it with a firm, almost cold grip. "You can call me Jim."

"Very well, Jim," Data replied awkwardly, but his voice did not drop despite his hesitation.

"So you're an android?" Kirk asked as they continued down the hall.

"Yes," Data said. "I was created by Dr. Noonien Soong."

Kirk froze, his eyes wide. "Dr. Noonien Singh? Khan?" He readied for a fight he knew he could not win.

"No, Dr. Noonien Soong,” Data replied, as though it was a simple misunderstanding, “A famous cyberneticist of this century. I assume you are referring to the infamous tyrant from 20th century Earth who, similar to yourself, fell into a stasis and was reawakened in the 23rd century?"

Kirk could still picture Spock trapped behind the glass, dying before his eyes while he could do nothing to stop it. Spock had come back, he’d made sure of it, and they had renewed their bond years ago, but without Spock's reassuring presence in his mind…

Kirk swallowed and forced himself back to the present.

"No relation?" he confirmed.

"None," Data said. More hesitantly he continued, "I am sorry if I caused offense."

Kirk waved it off. "My compliments to Dr. Soong. Are there many other androids in Starfleet?"

“No,” Data replied sadly. “I am the only one.”

Kirk gave a sympathetic nod. “Stuck on a ship full of illogical humans?”

“Illogical?” Data asked, his head cocked to the side in confusion. “I do not find my colleagues’ behavior particularly illogical, human or otherwise. Rather, I admire the human capacity for emotion.”

“Do you?” Kirk asked, his eyebrows rose in surprise. “You don’t seem to be lacking any emotions yourself.”

Data grinned as though it was a great compliment. "Thank you, sir- Jim. I have been trying to be more human for many years, but I only recently installed a chip, which has allowed me to experience human emotions."

“How are you liking them?”

"They are very inconvenient at times," Data acknowledged, "But I believe I am beginning to master them."

“Really?” Kirk said with a wry smile. “You’re doing better than most humans already.”

“No, I still have much to learn,” Data insisted.

Kirk nodded in understanding - they all had a lot to learn.

Meanwhile, Data had led Kirk onto a turbolift, which opened on the bridge. Dark metal had been replaced by soft light browns, and the whole room looked larger, crowned with a bright domed ceiling, but for all the changes, it was unmistakable. They stayed to the side by the lift as not to disturb the officers at their stations. It looked like a shift of younger officers had replaced the normal bridge crew for the time being. They all stood as Kirk entered, but he hastily waved them back into their seats and they obliged.

His eyes wandered from station to station as he tried to take in the whole room, but his gaze was inexorably drawn to the con. It was a larger drop than he remembered between what had once been the science station and the central dias - it would have been harder to glance over his shoulder for a silent conversation with Spock. But in the center, there was not one chair, but three, with sitting space for more.

“How many captains can one ship have?” Kirk mused, his voice low enough that if Data was human, he would have barely been able to hear.

“Typically, only one,” Data replied, clearly confused by Kirk’s question.

Kirk just waved it off. He let out a sigh as his attention shifted from the unfamiliar trio of overly comfortable chairs in the center, to the viewscreen ahead. The stars raced by as they traveled incredible distances at an unfathomable speed. His heart seemed to soar, as though trying to escape his chest in a desperate bid for freedom before he was trapped back on Earth, even if it was by his own design.

The view seemed to hold him, preventing him from turning away and continuing on the tour. But he had retired years ago - it was already too late. It wasn’t his.

Finally, he tore himself away and forced himself to return to the turbolift, Data at his heels.

“Is something wrong, sir?” Data asked as the doors closed behind them.

Kirk sighed again and shook his head. “It brings back memories,” he said at last.

“You did not like serving aboard starships?”

“No,” Kirk said with half a smile, “The opposite.”

“You are unhappy because you were reminded of something you enjoyed?” Data clarified, dubious of the whole train of logic.

Kirk nodded. “Do you have any regrets, Mr. Data?” he asked as lightly as he could, with an almost challenging lilt.

Data seemed to consider the matter as the turbolift came to a stop, and they stepped out into another corridor. “I regret not stopping Soran from taking Geordi,” he admitted at last. “I regret pushing Dr. Crusher into the water and generally not understanding my crewmates’ jokes. I regret not feeding Spot promptly.”

“Spot?” Kirk interrupted Data as he began to ramble.

“My cat,” Data said.

“You had your cat with you on the _Enterprise_?” Kirk’s eyebrows rose a little in disbelief.

“Yes. I was very happy to see that she had survived the crash. She is currently in my quarters here, on the _Farragut._ ”

Kirk grinned. He wondered if Spock would have wanted a cat if regulation had allowed it - of course, he got no answer. “Why a cat?” he asked aloud.

“They are common pets among the families that lived on the _Enterprise_ , and I concluded that caring for a pet might enable me to become more human.”

“There were families on the _Enterprise_ ?” Kirk could hardly imagine it, let alone understand why with all the dangers they encountered exploring the galaxy, even without going into combat. As though to prove it, the _Enterprise_ had just been destroyed, no doubt killing dozens of civilians, if not more.

“Yes,” Data replied, as though it was perfectly logical. “According to Starfleet records, that was not the case on the first USS _Enterprise_ or the _Enterprise-A_.”

Kirk shook his head. Maybe things had calmed down in the intervening century, but he doubted it. Still, it wasn’t his place to argue, instead he asked, “What has having a pet cat taught you about humanity?”

“I have learned many things from caring for Spot, and Spot herself has proven to be an able teacher at times. Ever since installing the emotion chip, she has evoked in me a wide variety of feelings; joy, annoyance, even fear for her wellbeing.”

Kirk couldn’t help but ask, “And you never considered getting a dog?”

“No, It would be impractical to keep one on a starship.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Kirk acknowledged a little reluctantly.

“You prefer dogs to cats?”

Kirk nodded.

“I have noticed that my human colleagues occasionally engage in a debate as to which is a superior pet. I have never understood the reasoning” - Data paused in consideration - “Though I now find that I am inclined to favor cats on a purely emotional basis.”

“It’s probably just that, for the most part,” Kirk admitted with a smile. “When I was growing up, we had a dog - Butler was his name - and I couldn’t imagine a better pet.” He shook his head. He could only wonder why he had gotten so nostalgic all of a sudden.

“I see…” Data seemed to consider the information. “I will have to examine these feelings further.”

Data soon led Kirk through another doorway, into long, low room, lined with computer terminals, plus a large table in the center for more, all displaying ship’s specifications. At the far end of the room was a giant glowing column that could only have been the warp core.

“Welcome to Engineering!” a young man declared, with a broad gesture at the room around him. He had a visor over his eyes that Kirk could only assume was like a tricorder that left his hands free to work. “So, that’s where you’ve been, Data.” He grinned at the android and then turned to Kirk. “It’s an honor to meet you, Captain Kirk, I’m Geordi La Forge, Chief of Engineering of the USS _Enterprise_.”

“Nice to meet you,” Kirk said, and they shook hands.

“What brings you down to engineering, sir?” La Forge asked.

Kirk waved it off. “You can call me Jim. Mr. Data was just giving me a tour of the _Farragut_.”

“I take it you’ve already been to the bridge.”

Data gave a sharp nod.

“What about Ten-Forward?” La Forge suggested. “Or whatever they call it here. Riker said he might check it out since he doesn’t have much to do.”

“What’s ‘Ten-Forward’?” Kirk asked.

“Sorry, sir,” La Forge said. “That’s just what we call the ship’s bar - it’s on the tip of the saucer, deck ten.”

“The ship has a bar? A lot has changed in eighty years.”

“Oh yeah, the old Constitution-class ships were a lot more minimalist, weren’t they? We studied them in engineering track at the academy.”

Kirk smiled. “They were nice ships, but you’re right, they weren’t made for comfort.”

“Geordi, would you care to join us?” Data asked.

“Sure,” La Forge said. He led the way out of engineering without taking off the visor. “They don’t really need me here, I’ve just been hanging around since I don’t have anywhere else to be. I’ll be glad to be back on duty, that’s for sure.”

Kirk nodded in understanding. “It’s never the same being on someone else’s ship.”

“I didn’t think I’d miss the _Enterprise_ so much, but now that she’s gone…” La Forge trailed off.

“I have also developed some affection for our late starship” - Data seemed a little surprised by the realization. “Perhaps that is why there have been so many starships with the name _Enterprise_.”

“I wouldn’t command another,” Kirk said.

“With all due respect,” La Forge said with a smile, “Captain Picard would give you a run for your money.”

Kirk shook his head. “He doesn’t have to. I’m retired now.”

“Funny thing, I met Captain Montgomery Scott - you knew him right?”

“He was my chief engineer,” Kirk said with a touch of pride.

“Well, that’s what he said too; that he was too old,” La Forge continued. “Did everyone in your time retire so young?”

Kirk shrugged. “Eventually you have to step out of the way and let the younger generation take over. One day you’ll understand.”

La Forge just shook his head. After a moment’s thought, he redirected the conversation with a grin, “Did he really say everything would take longer than he actually needed?”

“He told you about that, did he?” Kirk said, his lips pursed in mock annoyance. “To be fair, I always needed things done in half the time, so it probably evened out.”

“I do not understand why it would not be better to have the accurate times.” Data’s forehead was scrunched up in confusion.

Kirk smiled at him. “As Spock would say, it’s just an example of human illogic.”

To his surprise, Data exclaimed, “Why does Ambassador Spock reject the humanity that I seek? It frustrates me.”

“Why do you want to be human?” Kirk countered gently.

“As an android, my purpose is to be an artificial human,” Data explained.

“If Dr. Soong wanted to create another human, there’s a much easier way,” Kirk remarked with a wry smile.

“There’s something in the challenge of it - Dr. Soong was a scientist, wasn’t he?” La Forge suggested. “And I think he succeeded pretty well.”

“Thank you Geordi, that is very kind, but even with the emotion chip, there is still much I do not understand about human behavior,” Data said.

“There’s a lot we humans don’t understand about ourselves,” Kirk said.

Before the conversation could continue, they came upon a pair of double doors that opened into a dimly lit room, crowded with _Farragut_ officers on their off shift and _Enterprise_ crew members with nowhere else to be. Against the near wall was a bustling bar. One of the bartenders, a woman dressed like no Starfleet officer Kirk had ever seen, in a brightly colored dress with a wide disk of a hat, was watching him with a piercing gaze that made him wonder if she was telepathic. But at last she turned away.

Kirk shook off the peculiar feeling and let his eyes wander around the room. Amidst the crowd of standing officers, he could make out a few square tables where the lucky - or high ranked - were sitting. A young man at a nearby table glanced over and jumped up to greet them with an eager, almost wry grin. He had an easy confidence that almost reminded Kirk of himself when he was in his prime, but for some unfathomable reason, he had elected to grow a beard and moustache - Kirk could only assume it was the fashion of the times.

“Data! Geordi!” the young man exclaimed as they waded their way through the crowd to meet him in the middle. He was significantly taller than Kirk had expected. “And you must be Captain Kirk,” he concluded once they arrived, and held out a hand to the captain.

“You have me at a disadvantage,” Kirk said as they shook hands.

“Commander William Riker, First Officer of the USS _Enterprise-D_ , at your service, sir. I’ve read about all your adventures, and I’m sure there are plenty that didn’t make it into the history books.” He flashed Kirk a knowing smile.

Commander Riker waved Kirk over to the table, where he had been sitting with, of all things, a Klingon in a Starfleet uniform. Riker introduced him with a wave - “Lieutenant Commander Worf.”

Worf stood and Kirk shook his hand as well.

“Worf…” Kirk trailed off - the name was familiar from somewhere. Suddenly, he remembered. “I didn’t realize Klingons lived so long - you don’t look like you’ve aged a day,” Kirk exclaimed. “I don’t think I ever got a chance to thank you for defending Dr. McCoy and I in that trial, though I know it was really just for show.”

“Sir?” Worf asked, in a very low, gruff voice.

Kirk’s face fell. “The trial over the death of Chancellor Gorkon right before the Khitomer Conference. I could have sworn we were defended by a Colonel Worf.”

“Colonel Worf was my grandfather,” the lieutenant commander explained, unamused.

“I can see the family resemblance,” Kirk attempted with a somewhat sheepish grin.

“Thank you, sir,” Worf said, still completely straight-faced. “I have been told that my grandfather was an honorable man.”

Vulcans were known for their stoicism, but Kirk could swear many of them hid a sharp sense of humor behind their logical mask. This Klingon, however, seemed entirely humorless, even more so than any of the other Klingons that Kirk had met over the years, but Kirk was hardly an expert in reading them.

Once Kirk had been properly introduced, Riker ushered him into a chair despite his protests. The others crowded around the table, and he caught several other officers watching him with eager, wide eyes. They all looked remarkably young, or maybe Kirk had just gotten old.

Suddenly, a young woman who must have been an ensign piped up - she somehow reminded him of Chekov, though there wasn’t really any resemblance - “Did you really kill God by crashing the first _Enterprise_ in the center of the galaxy?”

Kirk took a moment to process the question while all the officers tittered eagerly around him.

“It’s about time you humans did away with your gods,” Worf remarked, “We Klingons slew ours eons ago.” Kirk had no way of telling if he was serious, but his tone remained unchanged.

“No,” Kirk said at last, “We didn’t really kill God, and we certainly didn’t do it by crashing the _Enterprise_ in the center of the galaxy.”

“You did destroy the first _Enterprise_ though, didn’t you?” La Forge asked.

“There is record of a court case-” Data began to explain.

“And according to the reports, you encountered some sort of god in the center of the galaxy,” Riker cut in.

Kirk carefully chose which question to answer. “It called itself god. But it only took a few disrupter blasts to destroy it, so it can’t have been that all-powerful."

“Your ‘god’ is even weaker than that nuisance, Q,” Worf proclaimed.

“Don’t get me started on Q.” Riker leaned back in his chair and explained to the confused captain, “He’s an ‘all powerful’ alien from something called the Q Continuum who drops by every so often to play his tricks on us. He’s not that different from some of the things you encountered.”

Kirk recognized the description - “Like Trelane? He could manipulate matter and energy at will and used it to dress up as an 18th century squire and toy with my crew until his parents put a stop to it."

“Unfortunately, Q doesn’t seem to have any parents to speak of,” Riker said. “The Continuum took his powers away once, but it didn’t last.”

“You also met the ancient earth deity, Apollo, is that correct?” Data asked.

“Yes, apparently the ancient Greek gods came from outer space,” Kirk said with a grin.

Worf crossed his arms over his chest. “You humans have too many gods.”

“At least Apollo wasn’t much harder to beat than the thing at the center of the galaxy. We just had to hit him in the right place to knock out his power source,” Kirk said.

“But then when did you crash the _Enterprise_?” La Forge asked, trying to go through the years in his head.

Kirk sighed. “That’s another story.”

The ensign took the opportunity to ask, “What about that old NASA probe that tried to destroy Earth? Didn’t you get rid of it by stealing whales from the Klingons?”

“Such weak animals would not survive long on Qo’nos,” Worf declared.

“Old NASA probe?” Kirk asked. “You mean V’Ger - Voyager?”

The ensign nodded.

“It was a different probe that wanted to talk to the whales, from another galaxy, I think. And we got the whales by going back in time, not asking the Klingons.”

“Can you really go back in time by sling-shotting around a star?” La Forge asked.

Kirk nodded. “It’s a little risky, but it does the trick.”

“Intentional time travel is also against Starfleet regulation,” Data said pointedly.

“Just hypothetically,” La Forge insisted.

“You’ve never gone back in time?” Kirk asked with a grin.

La Forge shook his head. “I know the theory, but I’ve never had the chance to try it.”

“We have entered into multiple time loops,” Data corrected him.

“Naturally occuring?” Kirk asked.

“Yes,” Data replied, “One of which produced an alternate universe.”

“I take it that’s why time travel is against regulation? Though there are other ways to get stuck in alternate universes.”

“I thought that was just a rumor that the old transporters could drop you in another universe,” La Forge exclaimed.

“Just under the right conditions,” Kirk said. “They could also split a person into their good side and their bad side if you were caught in the wrong storm.”

La Forge shook his head in disbelief.

“It is not quite the same phenomenon, but we entered a space where thought and reality combined,” Data remarked.

“Did you really meet President Abraham Lincoln?” Riker cut in.

“No,” Kirk said, a tad regretfully, “Not the real one. We did get to meet Jack the Ripper on Argelius II - he tried to frame my chief engineer for murder.”

“What was he doing there?” Riker asked.

“Apparently he was actually an alien ghost that fed on fear,” Kirk explained.

Riker grinned. “I was going to offer to show you the holodeck, but you’ve seen it all.”

“There’s always more to explore,” Kirk said with a glance toward the wall of windows, looking out on outer space.

“Anyway, you have to be careful with the holodeck,” La Forge said. “The holograms can be pretty real.”

“Especially if something goes wrong,” Riker added.

Before anyone else had the chance to speak, the Starfleet insignia on Riker’s chest beeped and he pressed it to pick up a call.

“Picard to Commander Riker,” the captain’s voice sounded over the communicator, “Admiral Brackett is on the line from Starfleet command. I want all the senior officers and Captain Kirk in the conference room as soon as possible.”

“We’re on our way, Riker out.” He pressed the insignia again and the communicator turned off with a beep.


	2. Chapter 2

Kirk followed Commander Riker into a spacious conference room. The whole far wall was nothing but windows looking out on open space. Captain Picard was already seated at the table in front of them, deep in conversation with a woman on the viewscreen who must have been Admiral Brackett. He waved Kirk over to the chair next to him, Riker sat on the other side of the table, across from Picard, and Data, La Forge, and Worf filled in around the table.

“Doctor Crusher and Counselor Troi are busy with their patients. They said they’ll be here as soon as they can,” Riker reported, with a look that suggested he didn’t expect them to show at all.

“Understood,” Picard said.

When that was taken care of, the admiral turned to Kirk with a smile. “Captain Kirk, on behalf of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets, welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Kirk said.

"We look forward to your arrival on Earth." Finally, she got around to the point - "Frankly, you've returned at just the right time. A lot of our fleet was recently destroyed by a new threat, the Borg. We've lost a lot of our best officers and could use a man with your experience at the helm. You would have your choice of ship-"

Kirk raised a hand for silence. "I'm honored, but I retired eighty years ago."

"Captain," she insisted, "Please reconsider. Think of the difference you could make.”

Kirk shot a glare at Picard - those were Kirk’s own words she was using against him; that was how Picard had convinced him to give up the illusion in the Nexus and return to fight Soran.

“Is there anything we could do to convince you?” the admiral pressed.

Kirk had no intention of coming out of retirement, as much as the idea of commanding another starship appealed to him, but he saw his opening and took it. “Can you arrange for Ambassador Spock to meet me on Earth?”

Her eyes narrowed in surprise. “Ambassador Spock?”

“He was my First Officer.”

“The situation with the ambassador is a little more complicated-” she attempted.

“Please, just let him know that I’m back - he’ll find a way.”

“With all due respect, it’s been a long time.” She hesitated. “He’s quite dedicated to his current mission.”

Kirk could feel everyone’s eyes on him, but still he insisted, “I don’t have to see him, just let him know I’m alive.”

“Admiral,” Data spoke up, “Captain Kirk may be able to convince Ambassador Spock to return to Earth. According to their records, they are married.”

The admiral turned to Kirk for confirmation and he nodded with a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” the admiral said at last, “Ambassador Spock has been out of contact for three years now.”

“Can I at least know what’s going on?” Kirk demanded.

The admiral nodded.

Picard volunteered - “I can fill him in.”

Kirk barely heard the rest of the meeting. Instead, he stared out the windows that made up the far wall, letting his mind wander through the stars as the others discussed the logistics of transferring an entire crew from one starship to another - it seemed an  _ Enterprise-E _ was already under construction. He tried not to think about what could have happened to Spock.

Finally, the others filtered out of the conference room, leaving Kirk and Picard alone.

“Jim” - Picard hesitated - “Ambassador Spock is on Romulus.”

Kirk tore his eyes away from the windows and glanced at Picard. “I take it they haven’t become our allies in the past eighty years?”

“No, if anything our relations with the Romulans have gotten worse. They feel threatened by our alliance with the Klingons and have been doing everything in their power to put an end to it.”

Kirk braced himself for the worst and demanded, a little more sharply than necessary, “What happened to Spock?”

Picard sighed. “He’s been on Romulus for the past three years, attempting to educate the Romulan people in Vulcan ways and promote the reunification of Vulcan and Romulus. The assumption is that no news is good news - he’s well known as a Federation ambassador, and we assume the Romulans would make some noise if they had him, but the truth is we don’t know.”

Kirk just shook his head. Reunifying Vulcan and Romulus sounded like a crazy idea, even for Spock who had been in favor of peace with the Klingons before anyone else. But then again, there was a certain logic to it, not just trying to bring peace between Romulus and the Federation, but also trying to force the Vulcans to open up in the process. Either way, Kirk knew what he had to do.

“He’s not supposed to be there?” Kirk confirmed.

“No, in fact, at first we thought he might have defected to the Romulans” - Picard saw Kirk’s expression and clarified, “Not that we really believed he would defect, but he vanished one day, and was spotted on Romulus the next. Mr. Data and I were sent to sort it out and retrieve him.”

Kirk’s face lit up. “You met him?”

Picard smiled a little. “As a matter of fact, I did. He was remarkably stubborn.”

Kirk grinned and nodded in agreement. More seriously, he asked, “How was he?” He could only hope Spock wasn’t suffering from a broken bond.

“He seemed fine when I was there,” Picard answered, unsurprisingly oblivious to the real weight behind Kirk’s question, “But he hadn’t been on Romulus for very long. He was living underground, in a network of caves under a town, but I don’t think he stayed put. I doubt it’s gotten any easier since we left. He went when he did because he was invited by a friend of his, who he met at the Khitomer Conference, but it was a trap. We escaped - mostly thanks to Ambassador Spock.”

Kirk nodded. “He’s very efficient.”

“It’s easy to forget he was once a Starfleet captain, but he plainly hasn’t.”

“He was like that as a first officer too - the best one in the fleet.” Kirk couldn’t help but smile.

“His reputation as an ambassador is the same, and despite the troubles we encountered, he had amassed quite a following already. His students were quite devoted to him.”

“He has that effect on people.”

Picard looked unconvinced, but acknowledged, “He’s dedicated to his cause, I can give him that. I tried to convince him to return to the Federation, maybe I didn’t try hard enough, but he wouldn’t budge, even after being caught by the Romulan Security Forces.”

“He wouldn’t. I doubt I could convince him to leave...” Kirk trailed off.

After a moment’s pause, Picard carefully remarked, “When I saw him, he mentioned that he still feels responsible for the time you spent on Rura Penthe. He said he went to Romulus alone because he didn’t want to risk anyone else’s life.” He gave Kirk a pointed look, as though he could see through Kirk’s nascent plans.

Kirk shook his head. Of course Spock still felt guilty for it after all these years. “I’m to blame for worse.”

Picard hesitated. “Sometimes it feels like we give up too much in the name of duty.”

Kirk leaned back with a sigh. “I don’t know.” He still wanted so badly to be back in that chair, even for all it had cost him.

After a long silence, Picard spoke up, “Jim, I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but if you and the ambassador are married, you should know; Sarek died not long after Ambassador Spock left for Romulus.”

“Does Spock know?”

“Yes, I had a chance to tell him while I was on Romulus.”

Kirk nodded. “I’m sure his death is a great loss to the Federation.”

Delicately, Picard attempted, “I know he and Ambassador Spock had a difficult relationship.”

“To say the least,” Kirk couldn’t help but add.

Picard hesitated. “I shared a small bond with Sarek. He cared for Spock, in his way.”

Kirk frowned. “Maybe, but that doesn’t make him a good father.”

“The last thing he said to me before I left - before he died - was that he wanted me to tell Spock that he loved him. I know they argued, but perhaps that was merely how they communicated.”

Kirk glanced away to look out on the stars. Finally, he returned his gaze to Picard, his mind made up. “Sarek married a human woman and then punished their son for being too emotional - too human. It took Spock’s death for Sarek to finally accept him.” Despite Kirk’s efforts to keep his voice even, it shook a little with emotion.

“He saw his son die,” Picard protested. “It almost destroyed him.”

Kirk’s eyes widened as he realized what Picard had seen. He cut off Picard with a shake of his head. “Sarek wasn’t there.”

“But I saw-”

Kirk shook his head again. “I melded with Sarek and showed him what happened.”

“That was…” Picard trailed off in realization. “Jim, I’m sorry.”

Kirk waved it off with a weak attempt at a smile. “It was a long time ago. Spock is fine now.”

“You wouldn’t know that he’s over a hundred by looking at him.”

Kirk’s smile grew a little stronger, though some dampness lingered under his eyes. “Thank you, Captain.” He forced himself to his feet.

Picard followed suit. “You can call me Jean-Luc.”

“Thank you, Jean-Luc,” Kirk corrected himself. “You’ve given me a lot to think about.”

Picard hesitated. “If you want to talk, you’re more than welcome.”

Kirk nodded in understanding. “I have a lot of questions about the  _ Enterprise-D _ , but we should save something to talk about for next time.”

“I can show you to your quarters,” Picard offered and led the way out of the conference room.

* * *

Kirk tossed and turned in a bed that was much too soft for a cot on a starship. He didn’t really want to get comfortable, there was too much on his mind, too much weighing on him. Finally, he threw off the sheets, changed into a clean uniform, and strode out into the hall. It was quieter now, though he still passed a few officers hurrying to and fro. Some attempted to greet him, but he waved them off. The computer terminal, that ran along the walls in a black band, guided him up to the observation deck at the top of the saucer.

The observation deck was thankfully empty - there were a lot more places on the ship where people could go to savor the experience of being in outer space. A whole wall and part of the ceiling were paned with transparent aluminum, through which he could see the stars shifting around him as they passed at warp.

He had glanced at a star chart, they weren’t too far from Romulan space. If he peered in the right direction, he may have even been able to see some of the stars in the Neutral Zone. All he needed was a ship to take him there, and the admiral had been all too willing to give him one. But he couldn’t risk a crew on a personal mission.

Maybe she would be willing to strike a deal; he would come out of retirement, but first he needed a small ship to take him to Romulus. He didn’t actually expect to return, they were both too stubborn - Spock wouldn’t leave and Kirk refused to leave him there alone. It wasn’t the cleanest way to get what he wanted, but he only had so many options.

“The famous Captain Kirk,” a woman declared from behind him, jarring him out of his thoughts. “You look like a man who has a lot on his mind. Want to talk about it?”

Kirk turned to face her - it was the woman from the bar in the brightly colored dress, with those piercing eyes. “You have me at a disadvantage,” he said with a smile.

“I’m Guinan,” she said, very matter-of-fact, almost like the Klingon. “The  _ Enterprise-B _ rescued me from the Nexus when you fell in. I never got a chance to thank you for saving us - not that any of us were very grateful at the time.”

As much as she looked it, she couldn’t have been human if she’d really lived that long, but Kirk supposed he shouldn’t have been surprised. “I just did what I could,” he deflected.

Guinan nodded sagely. “The Nexus is a dangerous place - I would know. But keeping it all cooped up inside you just makes it worse.”

His eyes narrowed in confusion. “I wasn’t there for very long - at least it didn’t feel like it. It didn’t leave much of an impression,” he said with a shrug.

“Really? Then there must be something else that has you staring out into space in the middle of the night,” she challenged, clearly skeptical.

He glanced back out at the stars. “Just thinking about an old friend.”

She stepped over to him, so they could look out the window side by side. “Tell me about this friend of yours.”

Kirk smiled a little at that. He didn’t even know where to begin. At last, he said, “He’s stubborn and throws himself into danger without a thought for his own safety, but he would never let anyone else get hurt in his place.”

“It sounds like he gives his friends a lot to worry about.”

Kirk nodded.

“But you don’t seem like a man who would just sit around and worry. What’s the plan?” Guinan asked, almost conspiratorially.

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” Kirk evaded the question with a smile.

“You can’t just leave him in danger, can you?”

Kirk sighed. “I don’t know if he is in any immediate danger,” he admitted.

“And if he was, you’d be able to get him out of it all on your own,” Guinan said sarcastically.

“I’d figure something out,” Kirk insisted.

“And then what? You’d lock him away to protect him from everything else in the galaxy?”

Kirk glared at her. “At least I’d be there.”

Guinan answered with a look of disbelief, “You’ll just follow him around?”

“Why not? That’s what he did for me for ten years, maybe it’s my turn.” With that, Kirk turned back toward the window.

Guinan clearly wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t argue any further. Instead, she let Kirk ruminate in silence for a little while, though he didn’t get far, still tense from their debate and ready for a fight.

Finally, Guinan spoke up once more - to Kirk’s surprise, the prodding tone was gone, replaced by something more reflective - “You know, sometimes I get feelings about things, how they’re supposed to be, like if there’s been some change in the timeline. I get a feeling like that about you; I don’t think we were ever supposed to meet. You were supposed to die on that planet and that was to be the end of it. But I think this way is better. I don’t think much else has changed and I’m glad I got to meet you, Captain.”

Kirk wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he answered with a wry smile all the same, “I’m glad I got to meet you too.”

They shook hands and Guinan left him alone in the observation deck at last.

* * *

A chime sounded at the door to Kirk’s quarters. It slid open on his command to reveal Counselor Troi.

“May I come in?” she asked.

“Sure,” Kirk welcomed her with a wave.

He was already seated at the desk and she brought over a chair to join him.

Once Troi was situated, she asked, “How are you feeling?”

He gave her a skeptical look and answered with a shrug - she could sense some purposeful evasion. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. I wanted to see how you’re doing.” Carefully, Troi said, “I am aware that Ambassador Spock is on Romulus.”

All that elicited was a sharp nod.

She tried again, “I can sense that you are feeling determined. Is there something you intend to do?”

He gave her a wry smile. “I’m always looking for an alternative solution.”

“Have you found one?”

“Aside from going to Romulus?”

It seemed she needed to take a more direct route. “I understand that you are in a very difficult situation, but avoiding your feelings is not the solution.”

Kirk reflected some of her irritation, though a bit of a smile remained to lighten the tone. “What do you want me to say? Of course I’m worried about him.” Before she could ask a follow-up question, he changed the topic entirely - “How precise are your empathic abilities?”

“I can tell you’re still trying to evade my questions.”

“It’s a useful ability, not just for counseling,” he pressed. “Can you sense the feelings of someone on another ship or on the surface of a planet?”

“Yes, it has come in handy in some diplomatic situations, but I am primarily a counselor.”

“I see that.”

She stopped herself short of sighing in exasperation. “I understand that you don’t want to talk about Ambassador Spock. What about your experience in the Nexus?”

“Fine, what do you want to know?” Kirk asked dismissively, but she could sense that his defenses had dropped a little.

“Tell me about it.”

“It’s very distant, almost like a dream.” He paused for a moment to search his memory. “The first thing I remember was standing outside a cabin chopping wood. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, though I don’t know why I was doing it - I knew Spock wasn’t there. I don’t know how long I was at it.”

“What influence would your husband’s presence have had on the situation?” she asked for clarification.

Kirk gave her a somewhat sheepish smile. “It was too warm out for me to want a fire for myself, but he likes the dry heat - it makes it feel more like Vulcan.”

“I see,” she said with a smile of her own. “And you said you were in front of a cabin - was it familiar to you?”

He nodded. “It was my uncle’s. I ended up with it after he died, but I wasn’t on Earth enough to use it, so I sold it years ago.”

“So, then what happened in the Nexus?”

“I was still chopping wood when your Captain Picard walked up. And then, I think I smelled something burning and remembered I had left some eggs on the stove, which I was making for a woman who was sleeping upstairs - I think her name was Antonia.”

“Is she someone you know?”

“I don’t think so.” He hesitated. “The strange thing is, while I was there, I was convinced that I almost married her nine years ago, but that instead I left to go back to Starfleet.”

“Did something similar happen nine years ago?”

Kirk shook his head.

“Were you with anyone at the time?”

“Spock and I were already married and I don’t think there was anyone else. It was before our last mission…” He froze.

Very delicately, Troi asked, “What is it?”

“Nine years ago, that was right before Khan - before Spock died. I was still on Earth at the time, if I had stayed and hadn’t gone on that training mission, Khan would have had no reason to go after Spock...” He had almost forgotten anyone else was there.

Troi could feel Kirk’s anguish, it was real even though the ambassador was alive as far as anyone knew. “What happened?” she prompted quietly, as not to intrude on his thoughts.

“Khan wanted revenge,” Kirk answered automatically, lost in memories. “He almost destroyed us, but at the last minute, Spock sacrificed himself to save the ship. I was able to bring him back, but it took a while before he was himself again.”

“I’m sorry.” Troi gently rested a hand on his arm.

Kirk seemed to jolt back to the present. His eyes suddenly fixed on Troi, as they hadn’t through his explanation, as though searching her face for a reaction or some indication of how much he had revealed.

“I sense that you still feel a lot of guilt for what happened,” Troi attempted, but she could tell that his defenses had already returned.

“A captain is responsible for the lives of his crew,” he answered, though his voice was still rough.

“Sometimes even the best captain can’t avert a tragedy.”

He shook his head. “It’s still his responsibility. You’re a doctor, don’t you feel responsible for your patients?”

She held firm - “It is important for a doctor to understand that sometimes there are things outside their control.”

“You sound like a Vulcan,” he accused, but he was almost smiling.

“Their philosophy has its merits.”

He nodded in agreement. “What does Betazoid philosophy have to say on the matter?” he asked - his evasive banter had returned.

“Most Betazoids prefer to embrace their emotions, which is very freeing, but can have negative effects on others. Any philosophy can be harmful if it is taken to extremes.”

Kirk gave her a knowing smile. “You said you’re half-Betazoid?”

“Yes, my mother is a Betazoid, and my father was human.” Troi felt a wave of sympathy in response. She clarified, “I had the opportunity to experience the best of both worlds. What’s your background?” she turned the question back on him.

“All human. I was born in Iowa, but my father was in Starfleet, so I spent a lot of time in the colonies.” A trace of a bad memory seemed to flit through his mind, but it quickly dissipated.

“Tell me about your time in the colonies,” Troi suggested.

Kirk waved it off. “There isn’t much to tell.” His tone was light, but she could sense that his defensiveness had returned.

It didn’t seem immediate enough to pursue, so she returned to her original question, “I don’t think you finished telling me about what happened in the Nexus. You were chopping wood, then Captain Picard arrived, and you realized the eggs you were making for Antonia were burning…” She motioned for him to continue.

He nodded. It took him a moment to regain his train of thought. “It really was like a dream. I think I was standing in the kitchen of my uncle’s cabin with your captain when my old dog, Butler, came in through the front door - I haven’t seen him since I was a kid. And I think there was that clock that I gave to Bones years ago on the wall, and I had the reading glasses that he gave me” - Troi felt a flash of Kirk’s regret and grief over Spock’s death, and then it was gone.

“Jean-Luc was trying to explain what was going on,” Kirk continued as though nothing had happened, “But I wasn’t listening - I was too busy preparing breakfast for Antonia. I think I even heard her voice, but when I stepped into the bedroom, I suddenly found myself in my uncle’s barn. I took out one of the horses, I think I was going to meet Antonia, but I’m not sure. I rode down the trail that I usually take, jumped over the ravine, and I think that’s when I realized it wasn’t real - I wasn’t afraid of the jump. That’s where Jean-Luc caught up to me and finally convinced me to go with him and stop Soran.”

“Why do you think the Nexus showed you that in particular?”

He shrugged. "It's the perfect retirement," he said, but she could tell he didn't really believe it.

"Perfect for you?"

"Maybe there's no such thing.”

"Why did you retire?"

"It was time," he said, but there was a lot of reluctance to it.

"You know, you're no older than Captain Picard.”

"Give or take eighty years,” he retorted.

“You don’t look over sixty to me.”

“You flatter me, doctor,” he said with a wry smile.

She gave him a look. More seriously, she said, “I think we made a lot of progress. Is it alright if I drop by again tomorrow?”

“Fine,” he said with a wave.

Kirk showed Counselor Troi to the door. It slid shut behind her and he was left alone in his quarters once more. He let out a sigh in an attempt to relieve some of the tension from the interview. The room suddenly seemed much too big for one man - it was bigger than his quarters had been on any of the ships he had commanded.

He glanced back at his desk - he could resume going over his plans for going to Romulus, but there was only so much that could be prepared in advance. Instead, he decided to follow the counselor’s example, and stepped out into the corridor himself. He ambled almost aimlessly, tracing his way through another unfamiliar starship - he had to remind himself that this one was not his.

He meandered down to the engines, passing officers and civilians alike, but no one that he recognized. Finally, he arrived in engineering and spotted Data standing at one of the terminals. Kirk strolled over to the android and peered at the screen over his shoulder, though he made sure to leave a comfortable distance between them.

Data turned to face him. “Is there something you require, Jim?”

Kirk smiled. “What are you working on there?”

“Monitoring the warp engine relay,” Data answered promptly.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Kirk asked. He attempted to decipher the schematic on the screen, but it made about as much sense as what Data had said.

“No, it is functioning within normal parameters. I am merely performing a routine check.”

“I don’t mean to distract you.”

“Very well,” Data said and returned to his work without a second glance.

Kirk grinned at the response. He waited for Data to notice he was still there.

“Captain Kirk!” La Forge exclaimed from the other end of the room, near the warp core. He strode over to join them.

“How are the engines?” Kirk asked.

“They ought to be at maximum efficiency with all the extra hands looking after them.”

“The engines’ efficiency is not correlated with the number of officers maintaining them,” Data corrected him.

“That’s the problem,” La Forge said. He turned to Kirk - “Is there anything we can help you with?”

Kirk shook his head. “Just distracting Mr. Data, here.”

“You said your intention was not to distract me,” Data protested, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“It’s a figure of speech, Data,” La Forge tried to explain. “People say it to be polite.”

“I see…” Data said, though he didn’t sound convinced. “However, Jim, if your intention is to distract me, I do have a question I have been meaning to ask you.”

“Ask away,” Kirk said with a wave.

“How can a human such as yourself engage in a romantic relationship with a Vulcan who rejects human emotion?”

La Forge made to protest, but Kirk held up a hand to stop him. A lot of people had asked him that question over the years, but rarely with such sincere curiosity.

However, before Kirk could answer, a young ensign interrupted, “Excuse me, sir.” She gestured at the terminal they were all crowded around.

“Come on,” La Forge said, “I know somewhere a little less crowded - you haven’t gotten a proper tour of the warp core yet.”

La Forge led the way to the tall glowing column at the end of the room that gave the ship the power to traverse the galaxy in days instead of years. From right next to it, if Kirk craned his neck, he could see a network of narrow walkways that wound around the warp core all the way to the top. La Forge led Kirk and Data up two metal staircases, bathed in the core’s blue glow.

“We should be out of the way up here,” La Forge said.

Kirk let his eyes fall shut so he could just listen to the whirring of the engines - it almost sounded like he was back on his own ship. Finally, he forced himself back to the present. “She’s lovely.”

La Forge grinned. “You should have seen the  _ Enterprise _ .”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” Kirk said. Then, at last, he turned to Data’s question. “Spock doesn’t really reject emotion, he just tempers it with logic. Do you have your sights set on a particular Vulcan?”

“No,” Data replied, “I am not romantically interested in a Vulcan, if I interpret your question correctly. I ask because my previous attempt at engaging in a romantic relationship with a human did not go well because of my inability to experience human emotions. However, based on the duration of your marriage with Ambassador Spock, I assume your relationship was successful despite his choice to lead a Vulcan life.”

“You had some emotions,” La Forge insisted, “Even before you put in the emotion chip.”

“I could not experience happiness, sadness, or even anger. Therefore, I was unqualified to be in a human relationship,” Data explained as though it was perfectly logical.

Kirk sighed. “Why does it have to be human? Did you love her?”

“I was not capable of experiencing love,” Data replied.

“Then why enter into a relationship in the first place?” Kirk pressed.

“She expressed her interest in me and after consulting with several of my crewmates, I determined that it would be an informative experience. However I proved to be unequal to the task.” Data’s disappointment was clear.

“Did you care for her?”

“She was my friend. I appreciated her abilities and the time that I spent with her.”

Kirk nodded. “That sounds like something to me, maybe not love, but you clearly felt something for her. And the desire for love is very human - not that we’re the only ones.”

“Even if I felt some emotion for her, it was clearly not enough,” Data insisted.

Kirk hesitated. “I fell in love with an android once. She seemed very human on the surface, but she didn’t have her own goals or ideals - it was her creator that wanted her to be more human. And, like you, she was new to emotion. Her creator tried to teach her through experience, but the conflicting feelings were too much for her.”

“I do not understand what you are attempting to demonstrate.”

“I don’t think I can really answer your question,” Kirk admitted. “Being in a relationship with a Vulcan or an android may be more complicated, but all relationships are complicated.” He put a reassuring hand on Data’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll make it work.”


	3. Chapter 3

There was no reason to delay. Kirk didn’t even have a career to sacrifice. He would rather not steal a starship, but having recently returned from the dead, he didn’t have many options.

“Computer, put me through to Admiral Brackett-” Kirk began.

The beep of his communicator cut him off.

“Wait on that,” Kirk ordered and tapped on his communicator.

It was Picard. “Jim, we’ve received a transmission from Ambassador Spock.”

Kirk’s heart leaped. “I’m on my way.” He turned off the communicator, cancelled the call to the admiral and nearly ran down to Picard’s quarters.

“What did Spock say?” Kirk demanded as the doors slid open to let him inside.

Picard was at his desk, working on the computer terminal. He turned it off when Kirk entered and answered with a smile, “He’s on his way. We’ll meet him between here and the Neutral Zone.”

It took Kirk a few moments to truly register what Picard had said.  _ Spock was on his way _ . There was no need to go to Romulus. He would see Spock soon, in a matter of days. He remembered seeing Spock off like it was just a month ago, but it had been  _ eighty years _ since Spock had last seen him, since their minds had touched - a whole lifetime. Kirk couldn’t imagine how much had changed in his absence.

A jittery rush of nerves and excitement spread through his veins. He couldn’t hold back a grin.

“Good,” Kirk said, “great.”

“I imagine he’ll be pleased to see you.”

“I hope so,” Kirk said, though he couldn’t really bring himself to doubt it. “Is there anything I can do around here in the meantime?” With nothing left to plan, he could easily go crazy just waiting around.

Picard shook his head. “The  _ Farragut _ is over staffed as is. I’ve just been doing my best to stay out of the way.”

Kirk couldn’t help but sympathize with the captain stuck on another’s ship. “I don’t envy your position.”

“It gives me some time to catch up on my reading.” Picard gestured toward the book on his desk.

“You collect antique books too?”

“I find it makes for a richer experience.”

Kirk nodded in agreement. He glanced at the novel and exclaimed in surprise, “The Tale of Two Cities?”

“Are you familiar with it?”

Kirk grinned. “It’s a favorite of mine.”

“I didn’t realize you were interested in history.”

“I am, but that one was a gift.”

“I was curious about its portrayal of the French revolution, but it’s clearly written from an English perspective.” Picard frowned at the thought.

“You’re actually French?”

“Yes, I was raised on an old-fashioned vineyard near the border with Switzerland.”

“With your accent, it’s easy to forget,” Kirk said with a wry smile. “I have a similar interest in American history.”

“I know less French history than maybe I should,” Picard admitted. “Usually I prefer archeology; studying lost alien civilizations.”

“Sounds exciting. You’re in the right place to do it, though I was usually preoccupied with the civilizations we found.”

“That’s often the case,” Picard said with a touch of disappointment, “But occasionally I have the chance to uncover something no one has seen in millennia.”

“There’s so much out here, we can barely even brush the surface,” Kirk marveled, leaning back in his chair.

“I’m certain the admiral’s offer stands.”

Kirk waved it off. “I’m retired.” After a moment’s thought he asked, “She said something happened to the fleet?”

Picard nodded. “The Borg. They’re part organic and part machine. They assimilate sentient species into their empire - for lack of a better word. They’re adaptable and relentless, just one of their ships destroyed most of the fleet. They would be centuries away, but a powerful alien we’ve encountered a few times decided to introduce us to them as a sort of practical joke.”

“And there’s no reasoning with them?”

“No, at least not until they see us as a real threat.”

Kirk glanced away, his mind already racing far ahead of him, trying to figure out how to beat such an opponent.

“I’m sorry, I’ve brought you into a dangerous time,” Picard said, jolting Kirk back to reality. “Thankfully, we think most of their fleet is still years away, so we should have some time to improve our defenses before we have to face them again.”

“Every age has its challenges.”

Picard nodded. “I wouldn’t have wanted to get in a fight with the Klingons.”

“We didn’t fight them face to face much. It was mostly just competing over allies and resources, but they did play dirty.”

“The Klingons? They can be ruthless, but they have their honor - for the most part. The Romulans on the other hand…”

“Maybe things have changed in eighty years. We only encountered the Romulans a few times, but they seemed to be honorable in their way.”

“I’ve just read about your times, but it seemed like the galaxy was a very different place.”

“I have a lot of catching up to do,” Kirk said with a smile.

“If you want any lighter reading, you’re welcome to borrow a book,” Picard offered. “My quarters were mostly undamaged in the crash.”

“What do you have?”

Picard led him over to a small cabinet in the corner, full of books. Some were a little charred around the edges and others had been banged up pretty badly, but they all looked readable. Kirk bent over to peruse the titles. There was Shakespere, some Klingon poetry, a few books in French, and other classics from all over the galaxy, even some Vulcan philosophy.

Kirk was considering the Vulcan philosophy when something else caught his eye - “The Campaigns of Alexander, it’s been years since I last read that!”

“You’re welcome to it.”

“Thank you.” Kirk carefully drew the old book out of the cabinet and flipped through the pages, scanning for familiar names and places - in all honesty, he was mostly looking for Alexander’s loyal companion, Hephaestion.

Picard hesitated. “If you get tired of reading, I’ve been meaning to go fencing when I have the time, you could join me,” he suggested a little awkwardly.

“I’ve never fenced before, but I could give it a try.”

“I can teach you the basics.”

“Sure. Just tell me when and I’ll meet you in the gym - this ship does have one?”

“Yes.”

“It has about everything else.” More seriously, Kirk said, “Thank you.”

“Not at all.”

Kirk took the book and returned to his quarters, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on reading - maybe later in the evening it could distract him from tossing and turning in bed. Instead, he left The Campaigns of Alexander on the table and made his way up to the ship’s bar. It was still bustling, but he recognized a few familiar faces in the crowd. Guinan waved to him from the bar and he spotted Riker and Worf at a table, not far from where they had been sitting when he ran into them the day before.

Kirk greeted Guinan with a nod and headed over to the table staked out by the senior officers.

“Captain Kirk,” Riker exclaimed, “I see you’re as bored as the rest of us.”

Kirk shrugged. “I’m helping by staying out of the way.”

“Those are the captain’s orders,” Worf grumbled.

Riker stood and insisted, “Have a seat.”

After much rearranging and polite apologies, Kirk ended up in a chair that had been hastily vacated by a timid ensign, who would not reclaim it despite all his protests, and promptly fled to the far corner of the room.

“Rank has its privileges,” Riker said wryly.

Kirk just shook his head. 

“So, Ambassador Spock is on his way,” Riker remarked once Kirk was settled.

Kirk grinned. “News travels fast.”

“I heard you married him to keep him from being assigned to another ship when he was your first officer,” Riker said, though he was careful to neither endorse nor deny the assertion.

“No, it was for the joint shore leaves once Spock had a ship of his own,” Kirk countered.

Worf glanced between them, as though he couldn’t decide if it was worse if they were lying or telling the truth. “I thought Vulcans were supposed to be logical,” he said at last.

“But when a man is in love…” Riker trailed off.

Worf looked dubious.

“I’m surprised you decided to get married at all, or do the history books have you pegged all wrong?” Riker asked.

“Vulcans have a different idea of marriage than humans,” Kirk said, though he couldn’t say much more.

“I see,” Riker said with a grin. “And it sounds like he was one hell of a first officer too.”

“I couldn’t ask for any better. Does Mr. Data have much command experience?”

“Putting together a command team already?”

“No” - Kirk waved off the suggestion - “I was just wondering what the crew makes of him.”

“He took a little getting used to,” Riker admitted. “But I don’t think there’s anyone who’s gotten to know him that doesn’t like him.”

Worf nodded in agreement.

“What about you?” Kirk asked. “Do you have your eyes set on a first officer?”

Riker shook his head. “I’ll probably get a command one day, but I’m happy here for now.”

“Really? I was probably promoted too young, but I’m surprised you’re not ready to get out of here.”

“So am I, But I’m happier as first officer on the  _ Enterprise _ than I’ve been anywhere else, and I think that’s more important than a promotion.”

“Who am I to argue with that? I accepted a promotion to admiral and where did it get me?”

“Was it really that bad?”

“For someone else, maybe not, but I don’t belong on Earth commanding a console. There’s nowhere better than the bridge of the  _ Enterprise _ .”

“I’d toast to that.” Riker raised his glass and tipped it back.

“Hear!” Worf exclaimed and followed suit.

“She was a good ship. I hope the  _ Enterprise-E _ will live up to the name, but I don’t know if it’ll ever be quite the same.”

“It isn’t,” Kirk said. “You were in command when she was destroyed?”

Riker nodded.

“I sacrificed the first  _ Enterprise _ for a lot less. It was still worth it, but the  _ Enterprise-A _ never felt like home in the same way.”

Riker finished the dregs of his drink. “Speaking of, I should probably get back to approving those transfers for when we do get the  _ Enterprise-E _ . It was good talking to you, Worf, Captain.” With that, he stood and took his leave.

Another officer promptly stole the vacated chair to take it to another table, and Kirk found himself alone with the Klingon. They seemed to size each other up, neither quite ready to make the first move.

To Kirk’s surprise, Worf spoke up, “At Starfleet Academy, I read about your battles with the Klingons.”

Kirk nodded. He would have been lying to say he regretted them.

“You were a true warrior,” Worf concluded.

“I admit, I was sometimes lacking in diplomacy, but our mission was peaceful exploration,” Kirk attempted.

“But you fought well,” Worf protested.

It sounded like it was intended as a compliment, but Kirk wasn’t quite ready to take it. Instead, he asked as casually as he could, “Are you the only Klingon in Starfleet?”

“Yes,” Worf said.

“Why? The Klingons must still have their own fleet.”

“After my family was killed in the Khitomer massacre, I was raised by humans,” Worf explained, but with the way he said it, he might as well have been talking about someone else’s family.

Still, Kirk’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, I didn’t realize. That can’t have been easy.”

“I faced some challenges,” Worf acknowledged stoically.

“You almost sound more like a Vulcan than a Klingon,” Kirk suggested with a smile.

“Vulcans are pacifists” - Worf said the word “pacifist” with some disdain.

“That’s usually the logical course of action,” Kirk argued, “But there’s no one I’d rather have on my side in a fight.”

Worf gave him a look of disbelief.

Wryly, Kirk asked, “You’re set on being a Klingon?”

“That is what I am,” Worf insisted.

“You’re right,” Kirk said. It had been unfair of him to suggest otherwise. “How is it, serving on a ship full of humans?”

“They are not warriors, but they are good colleagues” - Worf hesitated - “And friends.”

“Good. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been assigned a Klingon officer,” Kirk admitted. “I can only hope I would have followed your Captain Picard’s example.”

“Many Klingons still have a difficult time accepting the Federation as our allies. Most humans would not fare well on a Klingon ship - they do not understand the glory of war.”

“Some do, but they usually end up as the villains.”

“Yes, I do not understand why humans place so much value in reluctance.”

“Maybe we’re just indecisive,” Kirk suggested with a wry smile.

“That is not how I would describe my human colleagues.”

Kirk tried again - “Isn’t it better to go to war for a good cause than a bad one?”

“Perhaps,” Worf acknowledged, “But humans seem to place no value in the glory of battle.”

“No, I suppose we don’t. We’re not so fond of death and destruction.”

“You fear it,” Worf charged.

“With good reason.”

“Why fear the inevitable? At least a warrior can die well.”

“Is anything really inevitable?”

“All things die.”

“I don’t know, I’ve managed to cheat death well enough myself.”

“Your case is a unique one,” Worf admitted, “But eventually you  _ will _ die.”

“Maybe, but I don’t believe in no-win scenarios. Even if everything supposedly dies, there’s no reason to surrender and let it happen.”

“You would consider charging into battle, prepared to die, a surrender?” Worf demanded.

“Isn’t it better to live to fight another day?”

“Not if all your days are spent fleeing in fear of death.”

“Maybe you’re right, but if there’s a way…” Kirk trailed off, his eyes gazed out the windows that made up the far wall.

For a moment Worf drank in silence. Abruptly, he remarked, “I don’t understand how you humans can spend days on end doing nothing but waiting.”

Kirk looked back at the Klingon with a smile. “We don’t like it any more than you do. We just try to distract ourselves.”

Worf seemed to consider the suggestion. “Maybe I will go see if the  _ Farragut _ ’s holodeck has a suitable calisthenics program. You are welcome to join me.”

Kirk was curious, but shook his head. “Maybe another time.”

“Very well.” Worf finished his drink and took his leave.

***

Kirk was in his quarters reading when Counselor Troi dropped by. She joined him at the desk, no doubt ready with another barrage of questions.

“Good afternoon, Counselor,” he said, putting the book aside. “What can I help you with?”

To his surprise, she asked, “What are you reading?”

He smiled. “The Campaigns of Alexander. I borrowed it from your Captain Picard.”

“Alexander the Great?” she clarified.

He nodded.

“May I ask why that book in particular?”

“It’s a classic.”

Troi could tell there was another reason, but she didn’t press him on it. Instead she said, “The captain told me that Ambassador Spock is on his way.”

Kirk grinned. “Yes, I know.”

“How do you feel about seeing him after so long?” Troi attempted.

“It’ll be good to see him again,” Kirk said with half a shrug, as though there wasn’t anything else to be said, but the counselor could sense a deeper turmoil of nerves and uncertainty.

She decided it was time to take another approach. Starting on more solid ground, she asked, “When did you last see your husband?”

Kirk glanced away in recollection. “It was a little over a month before the launch of the  _ Enterprise-B _ \- Spock could tell you exactly how long. He was on Earth for just a few days between meetings with the Klingons. He wasn’t an ambassador yet, but he was well on his way.” Troi could feel some bitterness amidst his pride.

“Did you have many chances to talk to him while he was away?” she asked.

Kirk gave her a wry smile. “A few.” Troi could tell that it was intended as a joke, but she didn’t know why.

“You spoke with him frequently?” she clarified.

“You could say that,” Kirk said with that same private bemusement.

“Is there anything you wish you could have told him before you fell into the Nexus?”

He shook his head. “If I knew I wasn’t going to be in there forever, it would have been nice to let him know, but there weren’t any secrets between us.”

Kirk was carefully keeping something out of the conversation, Troi could feel it, but she didn’t know what. Unless… She hesitated. “When I first met you, in sickbay, I sensed that you were attempting to contact someone telepathically. I am aware that Vulcans have significant telepathic abilities, did you and Ambassador Spock have a telepathic connection?”

Kirk grinned and she could feel that she was correct. “Vulcans are a very private people, Counselor.”

“I see…” she said. Delicately, she continued, “I take it you and Ambassador Spock have not been in contact since you left the Nexus?”

He shook his head. “Not a word.”

“I’m sorry. To go from constant communication to nothing must be very unsettling.”

Kirk grimaced. “We were ‘out of contact’ for a few years after Spock’s death. It was a lot worse then, but it is still unsettling.”

“How do you think your husband is feeling right now, on his way to see you?”

“He is a Vulcan,” Kirk said with a wry smile.

She just gave him a look.

Again, Kirk glanced away, out the window, in thought. “I don’t know,” Kirk admitted at last. “I know I miss him, but it’s been so long…  _ Eighty years _ … It’s longer than I’ve been alive. I can’t imagine… Maybe he’s just coming here to prevent me from going to Romulus.”

“Do you actually believe that?”

“No. But it might be easier for him if I hadn’t come back.”

“Why?”

“I’ve given him a lot to worry about.”

“You seem to worry a lot about him,” she pointed out.

“While I was in the Nexus, at least I was safe. I can’t say as much about him.”

“If your connection really was severed” - Kirk winced at the thought - “He may not have known you were safe,” Troi remarked.

“I don’t know…” Kirk trailed off. He hoped the bond hadn’t been broken. Even if it hadn’t, it was probably silent on Spock’s end, but he was a proper telepath, maybe he could sense something that Kirk couldn’t.

“How do you think he feels?” Troi prompted again.

“I hope he hasn’t been too worried. Jean Luc said Spock still feels guilty for the time I spent on Rura Penthe, but I don’t even think an illogical human could spend eighty years worrying.” He gazed out the window, lost in thought. “I wonder how much he’s changed…”

***

“En garde!” Picard called out.

Kirk raised his sword for another attack - it was surprisingly heavy between his fingers. The stiff uniform was stifling, the helmet like a cage over his head. He peered at Picard through the mesh - not that he could see his opponent’s face - his sword bouncing in his hand.

Kirk let Picard come to him - they had barely bothered with footwork. Their swords met. He could tell Picard was going easy on him, maneuvering his blade this way and that in small neat motions that Kirk was sure left him wide open for an attack that Picard was kind enough not to take. Kirk circled Picard’s blade with his own in an attempt to replicate them, but it didn’t get him anywhere.

Finally, he threw caution to the wind and took a wild stab.

The alarm went off - the tip of Picard’s blade had caught on Kirk’s glove, winning him the match.

Picard raised his blade in a salute and Kirk only belatedly remembered to follow suit before pulling off his helmet. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of fresh air.

“Good bout,” Picard said.

Kirk opened his eyes and accepted Picard’s gloved hand with a wry smile.

“It’s a lot harder than it looks,” Kirk remarked as he tried to shrug off the thick jacket.

“It just takes practice,” Picard said, though he looked a little smug. “Not up for another?”

Kirk shook his head. “I think I’ll stick to wrestling.”

Kirk accepted a towel from Picard, grabbed a glass of water from the replicator and let himself fall onto the bench by the wall to catch his breath. Picard soon joined him.

They sat in silence, catching their breath. Abruptly, Picard asked, “You’re married - I don’t suppose you ever had children?”

A grimace flitted across Kirk’s face. “I had a son, but I barely knew him.” More lightly, he asked, “Do you have kids?”

“No,” Picard said. “The closest thing I had to a son was my nephew, René, but he and my brother were killed in a fire recently.”

“I’m sorry. David died a few years ago - give or take a few decades - but I never really mourned him.”

“I never liked children,” Picard continued, “But René was the exception. Now, I wonder if I made a mistake not settling down and having children of my own.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t settle down either. David wasn’t really mine. I was his father, but his mother and I weren’t together; she didn’t want him taking after me and running off across the galaxy, so I stayed away. I didn’t think twice.”

“Do you regret it?” Picard asked.

“Of course I regret not being there when I should have, but I wasn’t ready then and I don’t know if I’ve ever been ready. Spock certainly didn't want kids," he added a little less seriously - though he didn’t know what Spock wanted now.

"I didn’t think I did either, but now I’m not so sure.” Picard hesitated. “That’s what the Nexus showed me - a whole family in a stately old home. I thought that was what my brother wanted, that I’d moved beyond it somehow, but maybe we were more similar after all.”

“Maybe,” Kirk said, “But it would be hard to captain the  _ Enterprise _ from the family homestead.”

“True. Perhaps the Nexus merely shows us a path not taken rather than our hearts’ desires.”

“I would rather be on a bridge than that old cabin any day,” Kirk said with a smile.

“Why did you retire?”

Kirk’s smile quickly faded. “I gave up too much. Spock died because of me. He came back, but I couldn’t risk it happening again.”

“Surely it was dangerous before,” Picard attempted.

“We always made it out alive somehow.”

Picard hesitated. “I didn’t die, but I was assimilated by the Borg to be their representative to humanity. I lost my identity - part of myself. I considered leaving Starfleet, that it wasn’t worth the risk, but with more than a little help I learned to live with it.”

“You’re a braver man than I am, Captain.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps I just have less to lose.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kirk fidgeted with the long coat of the new dress uniform. He finally gave up and glanced over at Picard and Riker, standing off to the side as the official welcoming party. Picard gave him an encouraging smile and Riker grinned. Kirk smiled back, but he was all nerves. His heart was beating too fast and he didn’t know how much longer he could stand there, waiting.

“Ready to transport,” the transporter chief declared from the controls.

Kirk snapped to attention, facing straight ahead at the transporter pad, into the space where Spock would supposedly materialize. His heart pounded in his ears. He was staring so intently, he could almost see past the transporter and through the wall, into open space.

And then he heard a low whistle. It quickly rose to a loud whine as stripes of light appeared on the transporter pad. Kirk peered through the glaring light, searching for a humanoid figure materializing within.

Just as he was beginning to lose hope, Kirk glimpsed a shadow forming amidst the glow, which coalesced into a silhouette. And then, in the blink of an eye, Spock appeared on the transporter pad.

He was unmistakable, a little thinner than he had been when Kirk last saw him - life in hiding on Romulus could not have been easy - but he looked elegant in long, black Vulcan robes embroidered with intricate, curving Vulcan script. He was even wearing dark purple eyeshadow to accentuate his angled eyebrows.

Picard and Riker made to greet the ambassador, their hands raised in perfect Vulcan form, split between the third and fourth finger, but Spock only had eyes for the man in front of him, who returned his gaze with a dumbstruck stare.

“Jim,” Spock said at last. “Parted from me and never parted.”

A smile spread across Jim’s face as he finished the familiar litany, “Never and always touching and touched.”

And then, they both surged forward - Spock’s robes billowed around him. Jim took Spock by the shoulders, their eyes locked as though to memorize each others’ features. A smile teased at both of their lips. Even without their bond the same thought passed through their minds - a memory of another reunion and things that should not be expressed in front of Klingons or starship captains.

Spock was the first to turn away, his hand brushed against Jim’s ever so slightly as he faced Captain Picard and Commander Riker. Jim hastily followed suit, though he couldn’t keep his eyes off Spock.

Spock mirrored their greeting, holding up his hand in the Vulcan salute.

“Live long and prosper, Ambassador,” Picard spoke first, and Riker echoed after him.

“Live long and prosper,” Spock answered in kind. “And thank you for retrieving me at such short notice.”

“I’ll pass your thanks on to the captain,” Picard said. “Welcome to the USS _Farragut_. This is my first officer, Commander Riker.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement.

“If you’re amenable” - Picard glanced between Kirk and Spock - “My senior officers and I would be delighted if you would join us for dinner at nineteen hundred hours this evening.”

“Yes, I believe I would be amenable,” Spock replied with a touch of humor.

“Of course,” Kirk agreed with a grin.

Riker looked a little skeptical, but made no comment.

“In the meantime,” Spock continued, “Captain Kirk and I have much to discuss.” He turned to Kirk, expectantly.

“We’ll see you at dinner,” Kirk said to the others, and they took their leave.

They walked through the halls in silence. An excited tension buzzed in Kirk’s chest, spurring him on to match Spock’s long stride and then some. At last, he waved Spock into his quarters. They waited as the doors slid shut behind them more slowly than Jim had ever remembered. And then, finally, they turned to face each other once more.

Spock looked remarkably unchanged despite the years between them. Jim could almost imagine that they were back in the apartment in San Francisco, or to better suit the setting, that he had followed Spock on one of his diplomatic missions. But the way Spock was staring at him told another story.

“I did not expect I would ever see you alive again,” Spock admitted, his voice low.

“Spock” - Jim tentatively reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “Is it…?” he trailed off, as though saying the question aloud would make it real.

Spock understood and shook his head.

Jim let out a sigh of relief.

Spock hesitated. “It is not broken, but our bond has been blocked since you disappeared from the _Enterprise-B_.”

“Should we reroute to Vulcan?” Jim asked, ignoring the fact that there were two captains on board who may have had something else to say on the matter.

“I do not believe that is necessary. If you wish to renew our bond, I should be able to do so in a mind meld.” Spock spoke carefully, avoiding betraying his opinion one way or the other, but Jim could see a tentative hopefulness in his eyes.

“Yes,” Jim said with a raw smile. “If that’s what you want, of course,” he hastily tacked on.

“Jim,” Spock said almost reproachfully.

Jim gestured for him to go ahead.

“It may be prudent to make ourselves comfortable,” Spock suggested.

Jim followed him to the couch and they sat side by side, not quite touching. Spock raised his hand in an intimation of a meld. Jim nodded in assent. Finally, Spock closed the distance between them. He splayed out his fingers across Jim’s face, pressing his fingertips to Jim’s meld points. Jim’s eyes fell shut under the gentle caress.

“My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts,” Spock recited.

Jim reached for Spock’s mind with all the psychic abilities he did not possess as they very slowly came together. First, he felt Spock’s carefulness, his reticence as barriers built up over decades yielded before a familiar mind. There was uncertainty and fear and practiced control, but beneath it, a bubbling rush of relief that threatened to pour out.

Instead, Spock directed the flow. The present gave way to the past. What seemed like a strange dream in the Nexus expanded into eighty lonely years wandering the galaxy. They were productive years, full of countless accomplishments; treaties with the Klingons, a liason to the new Horta civilization, talks with the Cardassians, and more recently friendships with Romulans. But as the memories flitted past, Jim could not miss that he never stayed long in one location, instead going from starship to planet to starship, with no place to call home.

 _It was easier that way_ \- but they both knew it wasn’t.

Still they remained separate. There were still walls that had not been breached. Jim longed for Spock to let him in, and as the thought passed through his mind, Spock could no doubt feel it, but Jim would not push, no matter how much he wanted things to stay as they had been.

He felt Spock’s reluctance, his reflexive recitiance. He had been alone in his own mind for so long.

Jim held out a hand to him, a silent invitation. Their eyes were both closed, but Spock sensed the intention.

Slowly, cautiously, Spock took his hand. Jim felt the warm pressure on his fingertips before, together, they dove into the storm.

Their deepest feelings surged around them, tossing them to and fro in a whirlwind of memories. Their minds crashed together like two waves. The tide threatened to pull them under, and they let it wash over them. They sank into the eye of the storm…

_One soul in two bodies. Home._

As they pulled away in unison, the bond between their minds remained. It was quiet and distant compared to the rush of the meld, but it was there. Jim could feel Spock’s cautious contentment and sure enough, though Spock’s expression remained flat, Jim could see a smile in the crinkles around his eyes. Jim could not help but smile back.

They could have sat there forever, just taking in the other’s presence, maybe eventually giving way to conversation.

But it was almost time for dinner, so they tore their eyes away with silent promises that they would have time enough together. Spock was the first to stand and he held out a hand to help Jim to his feet, which Jim accepted with a grin. For a moment, he let his hand linger in Spock’s warm touch, before he hoisted himself to his feet with a little assistance.

They were still in their formal best, and so they just returned out into the corridor and found their way to a long conference room that was prepared for a small banquet. Captain Picard and several of his senior officers were already there waiting for them.

Kirk’s eyes were immediately drawn to the far wall that looked out on the stars. He glanced back at Spock watching him with some fond bemusement.

While Kirk’s gaze returned to the stars, Spock approached Captain Picard.

“Ambassador.” Picard again greeted him with the traditional Vulcan gesture.

Spock greeted him in kind, before moving on to his true purpose - “Thank you for freeing Captain Kirk from the Nexus.”

“Not at all,” Picard said. “I wouldn’t have been able to defeat Soran without his help.”

Spock nodded in agreement. “The captain is an invaluable companion in difficult situations.”

“He said the same thing about you.”

“It is gratifying to hear that I have been of use to him on occasion,” Spock said, with a touch of humor.

Before Picard could reply, Riker strode over to join them. “Ambassador. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, Commander,” Spock said. Kirk could feel his wry amusement at the formalities, even though it didn’t show on his face.

Kirk tore himself away from the windows to accompany Spock as Riker led him around the room, introducing him to the rest of the _Enterprise_ bridge crew.

“This is Counselor Troi,” Riker said with a wave in her direction.

“Nice to meet you,” she said to Spock. She greeted Kirk with a nod.

“You are the daughter of Ambassador Lwaxana Troi?” Spock asked.

“Yes,” Troi said, with a touch of dismay.

“I had the occasion to meet her at a conference. She is a highly dynamic individual.” Kirk could feel Spock’s sympathies, though he couldn’t tell if Troi picked up on it.

“You could say that.” Troi didn’t bother to hide her chagrin.

“It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Riker then led Spock over to the other side of the room, where Data and La Forge were immersed in a heated debate.

“You’ve already met Lieutenant Commander Data,” Riker began.

La Forge stepped forward to introduce himself - “I’m Geordi La Forge.”

“He’s our chief engineer,” Riker explained.

Spock inclined his head in greeting.

“Have you had the chance to continue your work on time travel?” La Forge asked.

“I have not had the opportunity to run any simulations since I arrived on Romulus, but I believe I have made some progress on the theory,” Spock said.

“What I want to know is how you got the idea of sling-shotting around the sun to travel back in time!”

“I’m to blame for that one,” Kirk admitted.

“We first traveled through time accidentally and I have been attempting to understand how we did so ever since,” Spock said with just a touch of wry humor.

“Well, if you have the time, I’d love to hear about your latest theories,” La Forge said.

“As would I,” Data put in.

“I would be more than willing to share them,” Spock said.

Once that was settled, Riker continued leading them around the room, toward the only Klingon present, who was standing stiffly by the windows. “This is Lieutenant Commander Worf, Security Chief.”

Spock regarded him with some pride. “I congratulate you on your promotion.”

“Thank you, Ambassador,” Worf replied, gruff as ever. “I never got a chance to thank you for convincing Starfleet to admit me.”

Spock nodded in acknowledgement. “I merely showed them that it was the logical course of action,” he said, but Kirk could feel his vehemence.

 _Of course you had a hand in it,_ Kirk projected over their bond.

Aloud, Spock said, “I have found that humans are often unfortunately resistant to change.”

“Not just humans,” Kirk put in.

“You are correct,” Spock said, Vulcans at the forefront of his mind.

Before the conversation could continue, Dr. Crusher arrived, looking rather harried, and Captain Picard called for them all to take their seats at the table. Once they were settled, he raised his glass and everyone else followed suit.

“I would like to make a toast to the newly returned Captain Kirk, and to Ambassador Spock for joining us for this historic occasion. May you both live long and prosper.”

Glasses clinked together across the table and then everyone drank.

“The captain of the _Farragut_ conveys her regards and regrets that she couldn’t join us,” Picard said before dinner began in earnest.

The table was spread with dishes from all over the galaxy. Kirk identified some Vulcan delicacies in particular, as well as a few familiar human dishes, and something like slimy blue tentacles that looked suspiciously Klingon.

Spock pointedly ignored the dig at Klingon cuisine in favor of silently commenting, _Food replicators have improved significantly in the past eighty years._

 _Apparently_ , Kirk marveled in response. The last time he’d had such a feast on a starship, they’d needed a fully stocked kitchen to pull it off. However, he didn’t miss that Spock’s plate remained mostly empty.

 _It will take some time for me to reacclimate_ , Spock replied and Kirk caught a glimpse of the past few years spent subsisting mainly on carefully rationed hard bread.

Kirk resisted the urge to press the matter.

Meanwhile, Commander Riker - who Kirk noticed was brave enough to take a sizable serving of the blue tentacles - leaned over the table to ask Spock, “What was it like serving as first officer to the legendary Captain Kirk?”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at Riker.

Kirk swept in to rescue his bondmate with a grin. “He ruined me. I couldn’t have another first officer because I was used to Spock being able to do everything at once.”

“That’s why you were asking about Data,” Riker exclaimed.

“You had a question about me?” Data asked.

Riker didn’t give Kirk a chance to answer. “He was wondering if you’d be up for the job of first officer.”

“I am sorry, Captain, but I belong on the _Enterprise_ ,” Data said to Kirk.

Kirk felt a rush of understanding from Spock, though his face remained stiff. Kirk brushed his hand past Spock’s as he reached for another bite of food.

Aloud, Kirk continued the conversation - though he had no intention of captaining another ship - “You don’t have a brother by any chance?” 

To his surprise, Data frowned. “Yes, Lore,” he said darkly.

“You wouldn’t want him as your first officer,” La Forge put in. “He’s more like an evil twin.”

“Oh well.” Kirk waved it off.

“You fared adequately with Mr. Sulu while I was on the _Intrepid_ ,” Spock reminded him.

“It took the whole bridge crew to get close to filling your shoes, and that was with a Vulcan science officer.”

“How have you found serving as first officer to Captain Picard?” Spock turned Riker’s question back on him.

Riker glanced at Picard, but answered confidently, “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Spock nodded. “My feelings are analogous,” he said, answering Riker’s question at last.

Kirk grinned and tried to convey a wave of warmth through the bond. He felt a quiet burst of affection in response.

While Kirk was focused on Spock, the conversation had shifted.

Troi asked, “How are things going with the Romulans?”

“Progress is being made, but slowly,” Spock replied. “Interest in Vulcan philosophy is growing. Unfortunately, the Senate has responded by attempting to crack down on its adherents.”

“Often such an action can have the opposite of the intended effect,” Picard remarked.

Spock nodded. “The Senate’s response has served to increase public awareness and curiosity about Vulcan philosophy, but it has also made life more difficult for those who choose to follow it. Many of my students have been forced to join me in hiding.”

“Romulus and Vulcan have been separate for so long, are you sure it’s a good idea to reunite them?” La Forge asked.

“Neither society has benefited from their separation,” Spock explained. “They have both become too extreme; Vulcans in our pursuit of logic and Romulans in their enslavement to passion. Only together can they achieve balance.”

A plan that extended long after Spock’s death unfolded in his mind. Soon Spock would return to Romulus and resume his work. Eventually he would choose his most dedicated students to go to Vulcan and expose Vulcans to the advantages of Romulan philosophy. They would in turn choose their best students to return to Romulus, and gradually, the two civilizations would come together.

Kirk couldn’t say he was surprised, though he was a little disappointed. He rested his hand on the table so it just barely bumped up against Spock’s to ensure that he came through loud and clear as he projected, _You don’t have to do it alone._

Meanwhile, Picard asked, “Do you think it would be possible for Romulus and Vulcan to properly reunite while the Romulans are still at war with the Federation?”

Kirk only heard the beginning of Spock’s acknowledgement that it did make things more difficult, before it was drowned out by his response to Kirk’s thoughts, _It’s too dangerous._

 _That’s why you shouldn’t go alone!_ Kirk insisted.

 _I have managed in your absence_ , Spock replied, a little sharply.

Kirk tried not to project his hurt at the dismissal, but he had never been any good at hiding his feelings over the bond.

A burst of guilt seeped through before Spock replaced it with a more controlled wordless apology.

In the distance Kirk heard someone calling his name.

“Captain Kirk,” Dr. Crusher said again, a little louder, “Are you alright?”

Kirk could feel all eyes on him. He gave everyone a sheepish smile. “I guess I am a bit worn out. What is it?”

Dr. Crusher hesitated.

Before she could reply, Spock cut in, his tone sympathetic, but final, “Doctor, I will ensure that if anything is wrong, you will be the first to know.”

Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance before Spock dove back into the conversation with ease. 

_Later_ , Spock suggested - he acknowledged that Kirk was owed a complete explanation, but it wasn’t the time.

Kirk nodded in agreement.

While Kirk had been distracted, the general conversation had moved on from Romulus.

“It’s not our place to decide on their behalf,” Picard was saying.

“In an ideal world, that is an admirable ideal, however there are many circumstances under which impartiality is much crueler than intervention,” Spock insisted.

“As representatives of the Federation, we can’t interfere with another civilization,” Riker said.

“The Federation’s gotten serious about the Prime Directive in the past eighty years,” Kirk remarked.

“Once we were no longer preoccupied with the Klingons, we realized we couldn’t impose our will on other civilizations just because it was convenient,” Picard explained.

 _You tell that to the Klingons_ , Kirk griped silently. Aloud he answered more seriously, “I agree that the Prime Directive is an important principle, but there are other things that are more important.”

“Like people’s lives,” Dr. Crusher added.

“I do find myself inclined to agree with Captain Kirk,” Data said. “It is Starfleet’s prime directive, but there are some circumstances under which I believe it would be our duty to disobey.”

“With all due respect,” Worf interjected, “I’ve never understood why it’s so important to the Federation that we do not interfere with other societies.”

“It embodies the Federations goal of peaceful contact to ensure that we do not ‘play God’ with less developed civilizations,” Data explained.

Picard elaborated, “We’re not trying to conquer other planets. Even something as simple as providing aid could give the Federation undue influence. It’s essential that we interact on their terms and don’t overstep our bounds.”

“A government does not necessarily speak for its people,” Spock argued.

“And how can we expect them to make decisions if we’re not giving them the whole picture?” Kirk added.

“All of our races had the opportunity to develop without interference. It is the least we can do for those we encounter,” Troi said.

“We have not developed so independently.” Spock turned to Worf and redirected the conversation - “For example, Mr. Worf have you read Hamlet in the original Klingon?”

“No, I have not,” Worf replied.

“It is a fascinating read,” Spock said.

“You’ve read it?” Picard asked.

“Of course,” Spock said with a touch of humor.

“I always thought it was originally from Earth, by Will Shakespeare,” Riker remarked.

“Yes, but the Klingon version takes a very different perspective on the story. You should read it, Number One, I think you’d find it interesting,” Picard said.

“Everyone knows the Klingon is the original,” Worf insisted.

“There is conclusive evidence that the play was performed on Earth as early as the 17th century, long before first contact with the Klingons,” Data reported. “However, it is possible that Klingon authors independently wrote a similar play at an earlier date.”

“That sounds like quite the coincidence,” La Forge said.

“There are many similar stories by human authors,” Data explained. “At its core, the story of Hamlet is a simple narrative about the aftermath of the death of a ruler. His brother has taken the throne and his son must investigate to determine if there has been any ‘foul play.’ The notions of rightful vengeance are particularly reminiscent of Klingon ideals.”

“The way you describe it, it sounds like it could be another case for Sherlock Holmes,” La Forge said with a grin.

Spock quirked an eyebrow at him.

“The mystery isn’t as important as how Hamlet confronts the nature of vengeance and death,” Picard protested.

“That is a theme frequently found in detective novels,” Data said.

“You know,” Kirk remarked, “Mr. Spock here is descended from Sherlock Holmes.”

“That is not possible,” Data began.

La Forge cut him off, “Ambassador, if you’re into Sherlock Holmes, you should join us next time we run the Sherlock Holmes program in the holodeck.”

Spock considered the possibility.

“Are you suggesting that Ambassador Spock take your place as Dr. Watson?” Data asked, clearly perplexed.

La Forge shook his head. “Maybe we could make it a competition, the ambassador’s Sherlock Holmes against yours. And Captain” - he turned to Kirk - “You could play his Watson, if you wanted.”

Spock seemed intrigued by the possibility.

“If you haven’t been in a holodeck before, it’s a lot of fun,” Riker put in. “There are a lot of programs I could recommend.”

“Sure,” Kirk said, “I should experience the holodeck for myself.”

“I agree to your challenge,” Spock said. His tone was serious, but Kirk could feel his amusement at the prospect.

***

Finally, after a long dinner and drawn out fare-wells, Kirk and Spock made it back to their quarters. Both were exhausted from the long day, and so they prepared for bed in silence. Spock failed to completely conceal his illogical preference for changing in private, so Jim insisted Spock take over the somewhat separate bedroom, while Jim changed in the outer living room.

Jim let his mind wander as he pulled off the still uncomfortable new uniform. The inside wall was lined with windows looking out on the stars, and he was content to watch them drift by as Spock finished changing into his more modest sleepwear. For a moment, Jim regretted not putting on anything more, but Spock assured him that he had no objections.

At last, when Spock gave the all clear, Jim returned to the bedroom to find Spock sitting on the bed, his legs crossed as though for meditation, but his eyes were open, watching Jim intently, soaking in his presence. Spock’s expression remained stiff and it was not happiness that seeped through the bond, but a kind of awe. For all his logic, Spock was suspended on the edge of relief, unable to entirely believe his own senses. His world’s axis had shifted and it seemed to him that he had been left behind in its wake. He had some desire to reach out and touch Jim, to feel his presence, but could not bring himself to do so.

Slowly, cautiously, Jim approached the bed and sat down on the edge, waiting for Spock to make the first move. Ever since their meld, the years seemed to expand between them, and now it almost felt like the last time they had seen each other - from Jim’s perspective just months ago in San Francisco - had been the dream, and the Nexus and this strange future, the reality.

 _They are both reality_ , Spock corrected him, but he was aware of his hypocrisy.

At last, Spock spoke aloud, “I regret that I cannot give you the welcome that you deserve. I have been alone for a long time and am no longer accustomed to companionship.” _Especially human_ remained unsaid.

Jim could feel Spock’s regret compounding his own guilt for leaving Spock alone for so long. He reached for Spock’s hand on an impulse, hesitating only an instant for permission before taking it and cradling it between his own.

Their skin brushed together, sending sparks of emotion through their bond. In his mind’s eye, Jim glimpsed a desert storm dancing with lightning, at once overwhelming and exhilarating.

Jim grinned, his heart racing a little at the thought. “It’s just nice to have your undivided attention,” he said. His smile echoed through the bond.

He felt another burst of regret, but it was not enough to quell Spock’s stubborn determination. But the inevitable argument would wait.

Instead, Jim gave Spock’s hand a solid squeeze of reassurance - _You are more than enough_ \- before he relinquished it to slide under the covers, where Spock joined him. They turned so they were facing each other, their noses mere inches apart.

Jim met Spock’s sharp brown eyes, full of such affection kept carefully under restraint. Spock desired to reach out, and yet he was reluctant. So Jim reached out and rested his hand on top of Spock’s, answering Spock’s affection with his own. Spock seemed to let out a silent sigh of relief, a little tension faded from his mind, and he curled his fingers around Jim’s hand, reaffirming his presence.

 _It is late, you should rest,_ Spock projected over the bond, still making a futile attempt to conceal his own exhaustion.

 _You too,_ Jim suggested, though he knew it would do little to convince Spock. For a more convincing argument, he let his eyes fall shut and tried to steady his breathing, though he could _feel_ Spock’s presence mere inches away, more interesting than any dream. But gradually, his fatigue made itself known and he sunk into the overly soft mattress.

Hesitantly, Spock raised his free hand to brush a wayward curl off of Jim’s forehead, his fingers trailed lightly against Jim’s skin.


	5. Chapter 5

Jim awoke in an empty bed, but he was not alone.

Spock was sitting at the table in the other room, reading over a mug of Vulcan spice tea. Jim attempted to focus to get a better look at what he was reading and Spock projected it over the bond. To his surprise, it was not a PADD in Spock’s hands, but an old book written in a blocky script that almost looked like it was Klingon, but which he belatedly recognized as Romulan. It was apparently an ancient book of Romulan philosophy that had been passed down through the generations, graciously loaned to Spock by one of his students.

Jim could feel Spock’s pride and even affection for the young Romulans, so eager to learn about a culture that was no longer and not yet their own. It was not an easy life on Romulus, but better than decades spent wandering the galaxy in luxury alone. Jim refused to begrudge Spock his happiness, but still he could not help but wish that Picard had freed him from the Nexus just three years sooner.

Spock closed the book. _I am pleased that you have returned._ Though he did not deny that Jim’s presence made matters more complicated.

Finally, Jim hoisted himself out of bed and joined Spock in the main room. Spock was dressed already, of course, back in his stately Vulcan robes. He had gotten up and meditated hours before, and he even reassured Jim that he had eaten a small breakfast.

“Good morning,” Jim said aloud.

Spock did not retort that, as they were not in orbit around a star, morning had no real meaning. Instead, he replied, “Good morning, Jim.” He watched Jim with restrained fascination.

Jim smiled.

Spock could only raise his eyebrows at the familiar expression.

More seriously, Jim asked, “Still subsisting on hardtack?”

Spock did not deny it, though they both knew that wasn’t what the Vulcan bread was called - it was accurate enough.

“You’re not going to ‘reacclimate’ if that’s all you eat,” Jim insisted.

Spock knew better than to argue.

Jim went over to the replicator and got a mug of coffee for himself and a proper breakfast for the two of them. “Unfortunately, I don’t think this place has a kitchen, so this is the best we’re going to get.”

“Thank you,” Spock said.

Jim sat down beside him with a smile and took a long sip of coffee - not quite right, but good enough.

Spock put down his tea as the strong flavor slipped through the bond like all of Jim’s thoughts, aided by the fragrant smell. For an instant, it was as though it was just another morning in their apartment in San Francisco _eighty years ago_ , or in their quarters on the _Enterprise_ some years before that. Jim was almost sent reeling by how much time had passed so quickly.

Spock knew the time around Jim’s retirement had not been easy, but he felt a deep pang of nostalgia. Again he was struck by how little Jim had changed in the intervening years. Spock looked largely the same, but there were tell-tale signs of how the years had affected him.

“I have a lot of catching up to do,” Jim acknowledged ruefully.

Spock raised his eyebrows in disagreement. He knew Jim could perceive his feelings, but he said them aloud for emphasis, “I am not disappointed, but relieved.”

“I know,” Jim said. He brushed his hand against Spock’s, letting their conflicting emotions mingle in the hope that together they might find some order.

Spock’s gaze softened in the suggestion of a gentle smile.

“You look younger already,” Jim teased.

“I feel younger,” Spock said seriously.

Jim leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. They both longed for the past, even though they both knew they could not return to it.

At last, Jim stood to get ready for another day on the _Farragut_.

Spock watched Jim go until he was in the bedroom, out of sight. Only then did he return to his reading.

* * *

Counselor Troi rang at Captain Kirk’s quarters.

To her surprise, it was not Kirk who answered the door, but Ambassador Spock. She could sense that they were both there, of course, but, like most Vulcans, the ambassador was a telepathic wall. He was not completely unreadable like Data, but all she could sense were carefully constructed shields and practiced restraint. Even Kirk seemed more muted by association.

“Hello, Ambassador,” Troi greeted him with a smile. “I’m here to see how Captain Kirk is doing, though I would be happy to speak with you as well.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. “The captain will be out momentarily,” he said and waved her inside.

Spock returned to the couch and she sat down in the chair next to him.

“How are you?” Troi asked once they were both settled.

He quirked an eyebrow at her in something that looked like disbelief or skepticism, but with his mental shields, she couldn’t be sure. “I am fine,” he said at last, though he didn’t sound entirely certain about it, as though the words were forgein to him. “How are you?”

“I’m doing alright,” Troi said. “How is Captain Kirk?”

“He is in remarkably good health for his age,” the ambassador replied. Troi almost thought she detected a touch of wry humor.

“Yes, it looks like the Nexus kept him in a kind of stasis,” she explained. 

Spock nodded. “It is a fascinating phenomenon.”

Before he could continue, Captain Kirk emerged from the other room. “Counselor,” he said with a smile, as he joined Spock on the couch. They sat side by side, not quite touching.

“Captain Kirk, how are you doing?” Troi asked.

“Fine,” he said. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

He seemed much happier than he had been before the ambassador’s arrival, even muted as his emotions were. But Troi could not forget the unease she sensed at dinner the night before. She turned back to Spock and asked conversationally, “What are your plans now that you’ve returned to Federation space?”

“I will return to Earth with the captain and assist him in reestablishing himself.”

Now she could feel that uncertainty and determination coming from Kirk.

“Do you have any thoughts about what you might want to do on Earth once you’re settled?” Troi asked him.

“We haven’t decided yet,” Kirk said with a very purposeful smile. “What are your plans while you’re waiting for the _Enterprise-E_?”

“I haven’t had a chance to think about it. I’ll probably continue to meet with my patients, possibly do some sight-seeing.”

“Are there any sights you recommend? Anything new over the past eighty years?”

“A vacation sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ll have to think about places to recommend.”

“I’ve never been to Betazed. What’s it like?” Kirk remarked - Troi detected something of an ulterior motive, though she couldn’t tell what.

“It’s a very beautiful planet, very varied like Earth.”

“Did you spend your formative years on Betazed?” Spock asked - she felt some satisfaction from Kirk.

“Yes,” Troi said, “My mother insisted that I get a proper Betazoid education.”

Spock nodded in understanding. “My father agreed with Ambassador Troi about few things, but it appears that they had analogous opinions on child rearing.”

“I learned about my human side from my father,” Troi explained. “He liked reading me stories about the old American west.”

“Sarek forbade my mother from raising me as a human, but I do recall her reading me some of the stories she enjoyed as a child. _Alice in Wonderland_ was a particular favorite of hers.”

Troi could feel Kirk’s fondness, though she couldn’t sense the ambassador’s own feelings.

“It captures many feelings that come with living on an alien planet,” she said.

“Yes.” After a pause, Spock asked, “Why did you choose to join Starfleet?”

“Psychology as a field doesn’t exist on Betazed as it does on Earth. As a counselor, I felt I would be most useful to non-telepaths. Living among humans took some getting used to, but I never really felt out of place.”

“You are fortunate.”

Troi felt a burst of gentle affection from Kirk as he moved his hand to rest against Spock’s, if only barely. It was a subtle gesture, but as soon as they touched, Kirk’s feelings seemed to vanish behind Spock’s mental shields.

It took Troi a moment to catch up with what Spock was saying - “I came to the same conclusion that my skills were most needed among humans.”

“Yes, there is nowhere you are more needed than on a ship full of illogical humans,” Kirk teased.

Spock shot him an unreadable look.

“At dinner you said Vulcans have become too extreme in their pursuit of logic,” Troi remarked, inviting him to continue.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. “They have forgotten that logic is only the beginning.”

“What would you say comes next, after logic?”

“Openness; acceptance of that which does not conform to our ideals. Vulcans have become closed-minded. They regard all who do not conform to their narrow definition of logic with derision. Centuries of alliance with Humans has not changed that, but there is an understanding between Vulcans and Romulans because of our common origin. The Romulans also have much to gain from reunification with Vulcan.”

“Good luck, Ambassador,” Troi said. Only belatedly did she notice how uncomfortable Kirk looked, though she still couldn’t sense any of his emotions.

“Thank you,” Spock said.

Troi hesitated. Very carefully, she said, “I understand that a lot has changed for both of you in a very short time. Uncertainty and some uneasiness are a normal part of the adjustment process. I just want to encourage both of you to communicate openly with each other in this difficult time. Sometimes, even for telepaths, it’s important to say things aloud.”

Kirk removed his hand from Spock’s and Troi was suddenly hit with a burst of turbulent emotion.

“Thank you, Counselor,” Kirk said, polite, but pointed. His smile did not match his feelings.

Before he could change the topic, Troi said, “It was good talking with both of you. I should probably be going.”

“It was good speaking with you as well,” Spock said and showed her out the door.

Jim could feel Spock’s immovable determination, the will to do what needed to be done - his purpose in this new world Jim had found himself thrust into. It was dangerous, but as much as he dreaded losing Spock again, Jim had no right to get in his way and any attempt would be cruel as well as futile. But still, Jim was too stubborn to give up.

As the door closed behind Counselor Troi, Spock turned back toward Jim. They could both feel an argument brewing, boiling beneath the surface. They each knew everything the other would say long before they said it, but their feelings still threatened to burst out into the open. Maybe Troi was right, some things needed to be said aloud.

“If you’re going back to Romulus, I’m coming with you,” Jim said at last.

“It is too dangerous,” Spock attempted in vain. He sat back down next to Jim and fixed him with his most unyielding look.

“If it’s too dangerous for me to come, then it’s too dangerous for you to go alone!” Jim badly wanted to be able to make it an order and end it at that, but Spock hadn’t been his first officer for a long time and now Spock outranked him.

“It is not your fight.”

“Bullshit,” Jim snapped. “I haven’t come back from the dead just for you to die on Romulus!”

“I have no intention of dying.” Spock kept his voice steady even as he warred with Jim’s frantic emotions that were much stronger than anything he had experienced in his time alone.

“Then let me help!” _You don’t have to be alone!_

“It was because of me that you were sent to Rura Penthe. I will not allow you or anyone else to walk into danger on my account.”

“And I got you killed!” Jim cried. For an instant, Spock felt the full force of the anguish of the broken bond, though it rapidly subsided.

Spock rested a hand on Jim’s arm as a reminder of his presence, though he did not risk skin-to-skin contact. He looked Jim firmly in the eye. “The decision was mine.”

“And I decided to board the Klingon ship!” Jim retorted. “It was my fault we ended up in the situation in the first place; it was me Khan was after, I didn’t raise the shields fast enough, I should have gotten us out of there.” He pounded a fist on thin air in vehemence.

Spock tightened his grip on Jim’s arm. “You did nothing wrong.” He tried to impress the words on Jim’s mind, but he rejected them, sending a shudder through the bond. Spock shored up his shields and tried again with words alone, “I followed you willingly and would do so again. It was not your choice to meet with the Klingons, I forced the duty upon you even though I knew the risks.”

“You should have told me,” Jim acknowledged. “But you were right; it was the right thing to do, and maybe being forced to fight for the treaty did me some good. Anyway, you got us out of there in the end.”

“It was the least that I could do. You risked everything to return me to life and I did little to repay you.”

Jim gave him a searing look - _Do you really believe that?_

“I will not permit you to waste the remainder of your life in the catacombs of Romulus or imprisoned on Remus on my account,” Spock insisted.

“It’s not up to you,” Jim snapped. “If I can’t stop you, then you sure as hell can’t stop me.”

“Jim,” Spock attempted.

“You can’t keep me locked away on Earth, not while you’re out risking your life half-way across the galaxy.”

Jim could feel Spock warring within himself, torn between his mission on Romulus and the safety of his newly reawakened bondmate.

“Jim, I am unwilling to risk anyone’s life but my own,” Spock tried again. His tone was sharp, but internally, Jim could feel him pleading.

“Your life isn’t any less important!” Again, Spock saw himself pressed against the glass - out of reach - dying.

“Jim,” Spock said softly, but urgently.

Spock let his hand brush against Jim’s, conveying as much of his living presence as he could. Jim’s breathing steadied, though his fierce determination lingered in his eyes.

“I must meditate,” Spock said at last, withdrawing from the contact.

“Go ahead,” Jim said with a dismissive wave. He was disappointed, but not surprised. He conveyed his understanding clearly through the bond.

“Thank you,” Spock said, before retreating into the bedroom.

* * *

When he was done meditating, Spock found Jim in the ship’s gym, standing off to the side with a towel slung over his bare shoulders. Jim’s breathing had returned to normal by the time Spock arrived, but Spock could see the sweat on his torso and feel his muscles aching from exertion.

“You will be sore tomorrow,” Spock remarked.

Jim smiled at him. “I know. That means I did it right.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in a silent argument, but did not debate him.

“After spending eighty years in stasis, I have to do something to get back in shape,” Jim said.

“Your muscles did not deteriorate while you were in the Nexus. Physiologically, you changed very little, as though you did not experience the passage of time.”

“I know,” Jim said with a touch of impatience. Spock seemed distant; their bond was still mostly shielded for meditation and his emotions were carefully restrained.

Spock rested a hand on Jim’s arm and attempted to convey some reassurance. “I may be able to ameliorate some of the discomfort.”

Jim glanced up at Spock to confirm that he really was suggesting what Jim thought he was. Spock nodded, and Jim smiled despite himself.

Jim tossed his towel in the laundry, pulled his shirt back on, and gestured for Spock to lead the way, back to their quarters.

Slowly, their bond reopened. Jim could feel some of Spock’s unease and guilt for having abandoned him to meditate. All of Jim’s human emotion had been too much for a Vulcan long accustomed to living alone. But, Spock insisted, that just meant he needed to reacclimate to it.

They arrived in their quarters and went straight to the bedroom. At Spock’s direction, Jim sat down on the edge of the bed and Spock positioned himself cross-legged behind him, as though to meditate.

First, Spock eased off Jim’s shirt, his fingers trailing gently behind, sending shivers down Jim’s spine. Then he got to work, rubbing circles in Jim’s shoulders. Slowly, his hands traveled down Jim’s back. The warmth of Spock’s hands against the human’s cold skin relaxed Jim’s aching muscles on its own. Well practiced, precise movements kneaded away the remainder of the tension.

Their minds came together with the steady rhythm, they seemed to move as one. There was comfort, warmth, reassurance, a familiar presence that had been absent for much too long. It soothed the crashing waves of Jim’s mind and vitalized Spock’s desert with lightning and rain.

 _I am here now_ , whatever would come in the future. And even if they were separated, their minds remained together; _parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched_. The familiar litany echoed between their minds, working its way through Spock’s hands into Jim’s back, to seep into his bones. Even his mind seemed to soften with the rhythmic motion, drawing them even closer together.

Relief surged through them in waves. They were no longer alone, their thoughts and emotions swirled together into one. It was peaceful and warm in the eye of the storm. Only there, were they whole.

Slowly, together Jim and Spock emerged. Jim leaned into Spock’s chest. Spock’s legs had unfolded to bring them closer, until their bodies were pressed together. His hands had left Jim’s back to splay across his face so his fingertips rested against Jim’s meld points. Spock’s chin leaned against Jim’s shoulder.

Spock felt a rush of embarrassment that he had initiated a meld through no independent conscious thought of his own.

Jim merely grinned in response and leaned even more heavily into Spock’s chest. Spock obliged and wrapped his arms around Jim’s torso, pulling him closer. A lick of illogical fear made him hesitant to let go.

 _You are not alone_. The words echoed between their minds.

They stayed like that for a while longer, each soaking up the other’s presence. Even for Jim, it had been a long time since they’d been so close.

Spock silently apologized. He had intended to spend more time on Earth after their retirement, but he had gotten caught up in negotiations with the Klingons and he always assumed they would have plenty of time - not enough, but more.

“I wasn’t great company,” Jim admitted. Retirement had not been easy for him. Spock’s absence hadn’t helped, but even when Spock was there, he wasn’t happy.

Spock raised his eyebrows in disagreement. His regret was clear enough without words.

Jim turned around in Spock’s arms and kissed him on the lips. Sparks of gentle human affection scattered across Spock’s mind. His lips tingled with the soft, purposeful touch.


	6. The Adventure of the Dead Duke

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please pardon this slight detour into a holographic recreation of 19th century London, where our noble heroes will solve a most perplexing mystery. (This chapter also features conversations between Spock and Data, and Kirk and La Forge, so it’s not entirely fluff.)

Jim struggled with his waistcoat. At least the new Starfleet uniforms were simple. Under all these layers, he didn’t know how he was going to manage to walk around the holodeck without burning up, let alone chase down some holographic criminal. But the costumes were impressive, he would give them that.

He drew out a large circular watch from his breast pocket and flipped it open like a communicator. “We should go. We don’t want to be late for the game.”

Spock quirked an eyebrow at Jim. He looked quite striking. He wore his heavy British overcoat like a Vulcan robe; long and flowing. Underneath was a black waistcoat that accentuated his sturdy figure, and a white undershirt for contrast. His stern expression - concealing bemusement - completed the image.

Jim couldn’t help but grin at the sight.

“We are fortunate that the male corset had fallen out of fashion by the late 19th century,” Spock remarked.

Jim just gave him a look and shrugged on his own overcoat.

Before they stepped out the door, Spock gave Jim a final once-over. “You make a highly respectable Dr. Watson.”

“You don’t make a bad looking Sherlock Holmes, yourself.”

With Spock’s permission, Jim gave him a quick peck on the lips. Their fingers brushed together, sending a rush of emotion through the bond to accompany the gentle kiss.

When they drew apart, Spock said, “I advise that you exercise caution in the holodeck. Such behavior would have been considered scandalous.”

“I’ll be careful,” Jim assured him with a wry smile.

Jim gestured for Spock to lead the way out into the corridor.

Kirk and Spock arrived at the holodeck to find that the interior had already been transformed into a cluttered, but cozy living room, right out of the past, with wooden furniture and scattered papers. The windows on the far side of the room looked out on a smoggy 19th century London street.

Data and La Forge had claimed the chairs in front of the fireplace. Data was dressed in the classic deer-stalker hat and Inverness cape, casually bowing at a replicated violin as though it was the most natural thing in the world - he played beautifully. La Forge had opted for what seemed to be the standard waistcoat. He wasn’t wearing an overcoat, which Kirk took as sufficient reason to leave his on a peg by the door as he entered.

Without glancing up at the new arrivals, Data said, “Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson, welcome to 221B Baker Street.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”

Suddenly, they heard someone knocking at a door behind them.

Kirk turned to find that the entrance to the holodeck had been replaced by another wall, in the center of which was the front door to the apartment. He hastily stepped aside and let Spock answer the door. A distressed young man, presumably well dressed for the period, with long, wavy blond hair, hurried inside.

The young man froze as he realized just how many people were present. “I’m looking for Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” he explained, glancing between all the possible candidates.

At last, Data put aside his violin and faced his visitor. “You are the son of a duke, recently deceased, here to ask about his murder. You suspect a member of your household.”

The young man stood open-mouthed at the declaration. “How- how do you know that?”

“Your attire is only befitting of someone of such a rank, but no higher, that you are in mourning is obvious by your black suit, and your suspicion is why you are here,” Data rattled off as though he were taking readings in engineering.

“Why, that is remarkable!” the young man exclaimed. “You have it exactly right!”

“Why don’t you have a seat and tell us about it?” Kirk suggested, gesturing toward the empty couch.

The young man seemed startled by the interjection. “O-Of course.” But he hesitated to sit down. “I mean no disrespect, gentlemen” - he glanced back at Kirk and Spock - “but this is a very delicate matter. I understand that to enlist the services of Mr. Holmes is to also call upon Dr. Watson” - he nodded at La Forge - “but I would prefer as few people to know as possible.”

“Certainly,” Spock said, reassuring in his unemotional confidence. “No word of your troubles will leave the present company. I am, in a manner of speaking, an older brother to Sherlock Holmes” - he gestured at Data - “with some powers of deduction of my own. This is my own Dr. Watson.” He motioned toward Kirk, who smiled at the young man in greeting.

“My apologies, Mr. Holmes,” the young man said to Spock. “If you are anything like your renown brother, then perhaps the more the better.”

His concerns assuaged, the young man sat down on the couch and began his tale propper, “My name is Harry Daniels. My father, the duke, died some weeks ago, passing his title on to my uncle, Claud. Just two days ago, he announced his engagement to my mother, Gertrude-”

Data cut him off, “You believe it was your uncle who murdered your father.”

Mr. Daniels hesitated. “I suspect, but I do not know. In short, I wish for you, Mr. Holmes” - he glanced between Data and Spock - “to prove whether my uncle is guilty or innocent.”

“Your uncle is innocent,” Data declared.

“How do you know that?” La Forge demanded. “I made sure this wasn’t just another Sherlock Holmes case!”

“I am aware,” Data said. “The case would be too simple if it was as Mr. Daniels suggests.”

Mr. Daniels made to protest.

Before he could get out a word, Data leaped to his feet and continued, “But we will take your case and uncover who it was that did murder your father.” He turned to La Forge - “Come along, Watson, we have a mystery to solve!”

The five of them stepped outside the flat and found themselves, not on a bustling London street, but on the open British moor. Before them loomed an ancient castle, surrounded for miles in all directions by desolate rolling hills beneath a cloudy grey sky. There was a chill in the air, enough to make Kirk regret leaving his overcoat behind.

Kirk frantically glanced around in an attempt to get his bearings - the others seemed to take it all in stride and quickly made their way to castle.

“We can go back and take the train if you want,” La Forge said, waiting behind with Kirk, “but this way is faster.”

Kirk shook his head. “It just takes a little getting used to. Now I think I understand how Bones feels about the transporter.” He felt Spock’s amusement in response.

As they hurried to catch up to Spock, Data, and Mr. Daniels, Kirk remarked, “This is quite the illusion.”

La Forge grinned. “Most of it’s just being displayed on the walls. The holodeck can do a lot more elaborate things than this. Take Sherlock Holmes’s apartment; everything in that room was a real replicated object.”

Kirk nodded. But even though that was the greater technical feat, the open moor was still more impressive. He almost forgot he was on a starship in outer space, not on the surface of a planet.

“My uncle is out, so you can see anything you like,” Mr. Daniels was saying as Kirk and La Forge met the others by the door.

The door swung open and they were greeted by a prim and proper butler.

“This is Prescott,” Mr. Daniels said. “His family has served the duchy for generations.”

Prescott helped Mr. Daniels out of his overcoat. He held out a hand for Spock’s coat and Data’s cape as well, but they both declined, so the butler retreated into the hall.

“Take us to the scene of the crime,” Data instructed.

Mr. Daniels led the way up the grand staircase to the duke’s room. It was ornately furnished, with an enormous bed that looked even softer than the ones on the  _ Farragut _ . Data stepped inside and scanned the room from the center, no doubt making calculations at an inhuman pace. Meanwhile, Spock stood off to the side, watching Data and Mr. Daniels as much as examining the room itself. To do things properly he would have needed a tricorder, but he would make do without one.

Abruptly, Data strode over to the bed to examine a rope hanging down from the ceiling beside it. “This is how your father met his death,” he declared, pulling at the rope for emphasis.

“A bell pull?” Mr. Daniels asked, utterly confused.

“No. It appears to be a bell pull, but in fact it just goes up to that ventilator that leads into the other room, through which an ill-intentioned individual could direct a snake to slither down the rope and attack whoever is asleep in the bed.”

The others gathered around and sure enough, the end of the rope was fastened inside a gap in the wall that led into the neighboring room.

“You think my father was poisoned by a snake?” Mr. Daniels asked.

“Yes. What room does that ventilator lead into?”

Mr. Daniels led them all out of the duke’s room, to find that the adjacent room was nothing more than a broom cupboard.

“Anyone could have gone in there,” Mr. Daniels said with some disappointment.

“Unless everyone in your household keeps snakes, we have narrowed the possible suspects down considerably,” Spock said, but Kirk could feel some lingering doubt. He turned to Kirk - “Captain, your time may be better spent interviewing the members of the household.”

“That’s doctor to you,” Kirk corrected him with a grin.

“You forget that Dr. Watson was a military man” - Spock attempted to cover up his mistake.

Kirk just gave Spock a skeptical look and gestured for La Forge to follow him out of the room. “Let’s go.”

La Forge glanced at Data who agreed - “The members of the household may be able to shine some light on this mystery.”

“I’ll ring for Prescott,” Mr. Daniels said.

The butler soon arrived to lead Kirk and La Forge around the house on their own investigation. Meanwhile, Mr. Daniels led Spock and Data into his own room.

Data gave the room one sweeping glance and said, “Next.”

From there, they went on to the chamber of the woman of the house.

While Data scanned the room, Spock remarked, “Three years and seven days ago, you asked if I have missed my humanity. The answer that I gave you was incomplete. I have not missed my humanity because I never truly abandoned it.”

Data turned to face him, the mystery seemingly forgotten. “Then why do you live as a Vulcan?”

“Because I am a Vulcan and I was raised as a Vulcan, but I consider Vulcan philosophy to merely be the beginning. It needs flexibility, which I have found to be a very human trait.”

“I have also found flexibility to be a very human trait,” Data acknowledged.

He seemed to consider Spock’s words for a little longer before crossing the room to examine a crate leaning against the wall.

Finally, Data stood and declared, “On to the next.”

As they made their way through the hall, Data said, “I recently installed a chip that enables me to experience human emotions. They are more difficult to manage than I expected.”

Spock nodded. “Many Vulcans have spent their entire lives seeking to be free of the burden of emotion. I was fortunate enough to realize the futility of my goal before I attained it.”

“You attempted to ‘free yourself’ of all emotion? Why?”

“At the time, I thought it was the better way.”

“What changed your mind?”

“I experienced the mind of a being of pure logic, with no emotions or desires, and found it empty,” Spock explained. “Emotions must be managed. They are often unpleasant and unproductive. But without them, existence is meaningless.”

“I did not find my existence to be meaningless even before I installed the emotion chip,” Data protested.

“You were not entirely lacking in emotion when I met you on Romulus. Your desire to be human is an emotional one. You expressed disappointment at the thought that I had abandoned that which you have sought all your life.”

“I was not capable of experiencing emotion at the time,” Data insisted.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “Even Vulcans have emotions. Your feelings may not have been recognizably human, but that does not make them nonexistent.”

Data seemed unconvinced.

“Human emotions are particularly volatile,” Spock continued, “But they appear to be manageable.”

“Are Vulcan emotions different from Human emotions?”

“It is difficult to tell. From a young age we are taught to handle them so differently that they become different, even if there is no inherent distinction between them.”

Data fell silent as they entered Mr. Daniels’s uncle’s room.

While Data scanned the room, Spock approached Mr. Daniels and asked, “Why do you suspect your uncle?”

The young man hesitated. “I hardly believe it myself. I would say I had gone mad, but I only went out to see because the servants were talking about it...” he trailed off.

Spock pressed him, “Any evidence you can provide may be essential to uncovering the culprit.”

Mr. Daniels nodded and reluctantly continued, “They said they had seen the ghost of my late father, that he was calling for me. I had no choice; I went out on the ramparts in the middle of the night and there he was, solemn and proud, shimmering in the darkness. He told me that his death was no accident, that my uncle murdered him and now he’s going to marry my mother. I don’t know whether to believe him, to believe my own eyes, but I couldn’t just do nothing!”

Once it was clear that Mr. Daniels’s account was complete, Spock asked, “You are certain that the ghost resembled your deceased father?”

“I think so,” Mr. Daniels said. “I couldn’t see him clearly in the dark, but…” he trailed off. “I don’t know what to believe.”

“You made the correct decision in seeking out Sherlock Holmes,” Spock said. “This case holds many points of interest, and when we have eliminated the impossible, we will find the truth.”

* * *

Meanwhile, Prescott let Kirk and La Forge back downstairs.

“The duke has a very large household,” Prescott explained. “I, my two children, and all the servants live in the castle.”

“That’s a lot of suspects…” La Forge said. “Do you know if anyone didn’t like the old duke?”

“He was well loved by his people and the servants alike,” Prescott said a little stiffly.

“What do you make of his successor?” Kirk asked.

“My family has served the duke for generations,” Prescott said, “I do my duty.”

“What about Harry Daniels?” La Forge attempted. “What do you think about him?”

“His behavior has been very erratic of late. The whole household has been concerned about him, especially my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” Kirk asked.

“She is enamored with him,” Prescott admitted with some disapproval, but he hastily smoothed out his expression as he let them into the drawing room.

Inside was the duchess in a long black dress, sitting on the couch. All around her was brightly colored cloth that she was hard at work embroidering in a floral pattern. She glanced up upon their arrival.

Kirk gave her an easy smile. “Is it alright if we ask you a few questions.”

She put aside the cloth she was working on. “Certainly.”

Kirk took a seat in the chair next to Mrs. Daniels and turned to her with a more serious expression. “We have some questions about your late husband,” he said delicately. “Do you know of anyone who didn’t like him for any reason?”

She shook her head. “He was a good man.”

“Are you sure?” Kirk pressed, leaning in a little closer. “Not even the smallest argument?”

“Well, he and old Duke Forester were rivals for decades, but there wasn’t really anything to it, and anyway, Forester died years ago. I suppose there are always enemies of the state.” You must have heard about the inquest. His death was a tragedy, but it was his time.” She gave a sad sigh and returned to her sewing.

Finally, when it was clear she would say no more, Kirk stood and said, “Thank you very much for your time.”

With that, he and La Forge followed Prescott out of the drawing room.

As they made their way into the servants’ part of the castle, Kirk asked La Forge, “Do you and Data do this often?”

“Not often, but it’s fun when we have the time.”

“And you’re always Watson and Data is always Sherlock Holmes?” Kirk asked.

“Of course,” La Forge said with a smile. “Data likes having the chance to show off. Usually I just follow him around while he does his thing - taking notes for the stories I’ll write of our adventures.”

“I see...” Kirk said. “It’s fun for a game, but I don’t envy Dr. Watson.”

“No, I guess not - at least out there, I know what I’m doing. But this is a nice break.”

“I suppose,” Kirk said. After a moment’s hesitation, he remarked lightly, “I used to be Spock’s commanding officer. I guess I’m not used to having things the other way around.”

But Kirk would have to get used to it. As an ambassador, Spock certainly out-ranked him. On Romulus, all Kirk would be doing was following Spock around, but he would find some way to make himself useful.

“No interest in command?” Kirk asked, diverting the conversation from his more serious thoughts.

La Forge shook his head. “I’m happy in the engine room.”

Kirk nodded in understanding. “Scotty felt the same.”

Suddenly, Kirk felt Spock’s presence in his mind. It was always there, but now it was clear and sharply defined. He was upstairs, in the servant’s quarters - in Prescott’s room.

_ Bring Prescott _ , Spock instructed.  _ Do not let him out of your sight. _

“Captain!” La Forge was saying. “Are you alright.”

Kirk’s eyes blinked open. He was downstairs, with La Forge.

“I just heard something, coming from upstairs,” Kirk attempted to cover for the momentary lapse with urgency.

“Are you alright?” La Forge asked. “It seemed like what happened at dinner the other night.”

Kirk waved it off. “I’m fine. It just sounded like something fell upstairs. We should check on it, and then we can start interviewing the servants.”

“If you’re sure,” La Forge said, but he didn’t sound convinced.

“What’s the fastest way upstairs?” Kirk asked Prescott.

Prescott led them to the stairs. “But I heard nothing,” he insisted.

La Forge gave Kirk a concerned glance and Kirk just smiled back.

With Spock’s help, Kirk directed them to Prescott’s rooms. The door was open and inside stood Spock, Data, and Mr. Daniels.

Data strode up to Prescott and declared, “He is the culprit.”

Prescott ignored the others, pleading only to Mr. Daniels, “My lord, what is the meaning of this?”

“Did you kill my father?” Mr. Daniels demanded. His voice shook with emotion.

“Of course not!” Prescott protested. “I would never!”

“The evidence is conclusive,” Data insisted. “With my magnifying glass” - which he was still holding in his hand - “I can see the scales on the basket where you kept the snake. And on the shelf is the fluorescent powder you used to disguise yourself as the duke.” 

“Why did you do it?” Mr. Daniels cried. “He was a good man, even to the servants!”

“I do not believe Mr. Prescott acted alone,” Spock remarked. His demeanor remained serious, but Kirk could feel his wry amusement. “There is only one man who stands to gain from the scene that would unfold.”

“What do you mean?” Mr. Daniels asked.

“It would be best for you to see for yourself.” Spock caught Kirk’s eye and Kirk felt a spark of mischief. “After all, the play’s the thing to catch the conscience of the king.”

* * *

Prescott was restrained and locked away in his room. All of the other players gathered out on the grounds. Winds buffeted the open moor. Thankfully, La Forge had manipulated the program to retrieve Kirk’s overcoat from Baker Street. Now, it billowed out around him, though he didn’t look nearly as dramatic as Spock; a tall, stark figure in a fluttering black coat, looking out on the moor.

Kirk sidled up next to him. For a moment they just stood side by side. Kirk marveled at the open expanse, somehow condensed to fit on a starship. Their fingertips brushed together in a familiar gesture, and restrained affection passed between them. Kirk detected some metaphor about the changeability of nature that he didn’t have time to decipher.

“Everyone’s ready,” Kirk said at last.

“Good,” Spock said.

Finally, their fingers separated and they returned to the assembly gathered on the castle grounds. The servants had put up a small pavilion. In the middle were the young Mr. Daniels and Mr. Prescott’s son, Layton, prepared to duel for Prescott’s honor, with epees in hand. Data, La Forge and many of the servants had gathered around to watch the scene unfold, and on the far end were the duke and duchess, overseeing the whole proceeding from wooden thrones.

Spock positioned himself on the sidelines, just on the edge of the makeshift arena, to referee the duel, while Kirk joined Data in the audience. La Forge was positioned near the duke and duchess to direct them.

Spock raised his hand. The duelists saluted each other with their swords as Picard had taught Kirk to, and then the bout began. They seemed to size each other up, scuttling in and out in strange, almost galloping steps. Their blades met in the middle with a sharp clang and circled each other, one way and then the other.

And then with a sudden lunge, Mr. Daniels scored the first point.

The duel resumed. This time, their blades met in the middle almost immediately. Mr. Prescott tried for a hit, but was deflected. He knocked aside Mr. Daniels’s sword, but before he could lunge, Mr. Daniels slipped out of the parry and pricked Mr. Prescott’s hand, scoring the second point.

La Forge signaled to the duchess and she stood to propose a toast to her son. Her voice wavered, but it didn’t carry well anyway. The impression was clear enough, and she downed the glass of wine, sealing her fate.

As soon as she drank the wine, Spock signaled to Mr. Prescott to lunge for Mr. Daniels, striking him with his sword. Mr. Daniels struck back, knocking the sword out of Mr. Prescott’s hands. Mr. Prescott grabbed a conveniently placed platter to defend himself. He withstood a few more blows before he pushed back, knocking Mr. Daniels’s sword aside. The sword fell out of Mr. Daniels’s hands a little belatedly, but it did the trick.

Disarmed, Mr. Daniels dove for Mr. Prescott’s fallen sword - Spock nudged it toward him with his foot - and stabbed him with his own blade.

La Forge cued the duchess to fall.

“I am poisoned!” she cried and crumpled back in her chair - obviously still breathing.

“She’s dead,” La Forge declared.

“And so are you!” Mr. Prescott shouted at Mr. Daniels on Spock’s signal. His voice rose so he sounded almost uncertain and a touch manic rather than threatening or triumphant.

But was enough to cause Mr. Daniels to lunge at his uncle with Mr. Prescott’s sword.

The duke crumpled next and again La Forge declared him dead. Mr. Prescott followed, tumbling to the ground with a theatrical shout. And last, in the arms of his friend, Horace, Mr. Daniels breathed his last breath.

For a moment there was silence aside from the howling of the wind. And then came the sound of approaching footsteps, like a distant army marching upon the castle as none had for ages. They drew closer and closer until they thundered in the wind.

And then, the footsteps stopped.

“Where is this sight?” Picard proclaimed, dressed in period attire, as a soldier in bright red with a tall hat under his arm. “ This quarry cries on havoc. O proud death, what feast is toward in thine eternal cell, that thou so many princes at a shot so bloodily hast struck?”

He picked his way through the crowd, over the fallen men, to claim the ring from the duke’s finger and take it as his own. But before he could complete his theft, the duke startled into action and pulled his hand away.

“Why, young Forrester?” the duke demanded.

Picard stepped backward. Around him, the dead stirred, revealing themselves to be alive.

“ With sorrow I embraced my fortune: I have some rights of memory in this kingdom, which now to claim my vantage did invite me,” Picard attempted to explain.

“For revenge,” Data translated. “He blamed your brother for the death of his father. And if his plan had succeeded, he would have claimed your lands as well as his own.”

“What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear?” Spock declared. “It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable.” His voice carried over the wind with a dramatic weight - apparently it was a Sherlock Holmes quote, though Kirk couldn’t have placed it.

“There is nothing new under the sun,” Data concluded with a Sherlock Holmes quote of his own, “It has all been done before.”

After a moment of silence, the real humans erupted into applause as the holograms looked on in confusion. The actors bowed - first Picard, then Data and Spock together.

At last, La Forge ordered, “End program.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a fan of both Star Trek and Sherlock Holmes, I just had to bring them together when the opportunity so clearly presented itself. The plot and all of Picard’s dialogue are taken directly from Shakespeare's Hamlet, with only minor modifications.


	7. Chapter 7

Jim examined the chess board, looking at it this way and that. There was no way around it; Spock’s play had improved significantly in the past eighty years, while Jim had only stagnated.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him.  _ You had no chance to play in the Nexus? _

Jim shot him a look.

While Jim was in the Nexus, Spock had played chess with ambassadors, Starfleet officers, and beings from all across the galaxy. Apparently, he had even succeeded at teaching a Horta to play, though it required a much larger board constructed of heat resistant material. And in return, he had learned a game of their own, though it proved difficult without the ability to corrode solid rock.

Finally, Jim made his move.

“Fascinating,” Spock said aloud and moved a piece of his own.

Jim glanced between Spock and the board. He was employing a much more forward style of play than the Vulcan strategy Jim was familiar with. But Jim could work with that. He leaned in towards Spock and advanced another piece with a mischievous smirk.

“You are as reckless as ever,” Spock remarked, but Jim could feel the warmth behind his words, and beneath it a deep longing, like nostalgia.

Jim pursed his lips in teasing annoyance as Spock continued to close his trap around Jim’s king. If there was a way out, Jim couldn’t see it.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. Spock had only a flash of warning before Jim reached out and settled his cool hand on top of Spock’s warm one. Their minds collided with a sudden rush of eager emotion. Jim rubbed circles in the back of Spock’s hand sending thrills down both their spines.

“I take this as your resignation,” Spock remarked, despite the distraction of all of Jim’s thoughts and feelings, sparking through his mind.

Jim merely grinned, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he said, “You’ve become much more inventive. I would be impressed if it wasn’t so frustrating.”

“I do not see why you cannot be simultaneously impressed and frustrated,” Spock countered.

Jim gave him a look, and ran his hand down Spock’s long fingers in a kind of vengeance. Their minds pulled toward each other and their bond stretched open, letting their thoughts and feelings rush through. Even their very identities seemed no longer so distinct. Spock could only marvel at this mind, so familiar and vibrant with heartfelt affection, returned to him after so long. He yearned for the wholeness of a meld as much as he reflexively wanted to withdraw into meditation and process his contradictory emotions - Jim had only touched the surface and knew better than to press deeper.

At last, with a lingering touch, Jim withdrew his hand and declared, “Good game.”

Spock inclined his head. There was some suggestion of a smile around his eyes, but his expression remained flat, not that Jim was fooled.

“I am certain you will find the weakness in my strategy before long,” Spock said aloud.

Jim grinned. “I plan on it.”

“I look forward to the eventuality. Now, however,” Spock said, pushing away from the table, “if you will excuse me, it is past time I went to pay Lieutenant Commander Worf a visit.”

Jim nodded and stretched in his chair. “That’ll give me a chance to finish the book Jean-Luc lent me. I should give it back to him before we reach Earth.”

Jim felt Spock’s mixed feelings toward Captain Picard, mingled as they were his feelings for Sarek.

Jim put a sympathetic hand on Spock’s arm. “Say ‘hi’ to Mr. Worf for me.”

“I will convey your greetings,” Spock said and stood to leave.

Jim held up a hand and their fingers brushed together in a quick parting embrace, before Spock headed out the door.

Spock found Worf in the holodeck. The elaborate scenery of the Sherlock Holmes program had been replaced by a small circle of light in a black void. Worf had positioned himself in the middle of the circle, surrounded by small colorful dots flitting in and out of the darkness. Spock picked up a phaser by the entrance and made his way over to the center of the room. The arch disappeared behind him.

“Ambassador,” Worf exclaimed as Spock joined him. He hastily lowered his phaser. “Freeze program,” he ordered, and the lights froze in mid air.

“I do not intend to interrupt,” Spock said. “May I join you?”

Worf appeared skeptical, but assented, “If you want.”

Spock took his place next to Worf in the center of the circle, looking out on the scattered multi-colored lights.

“Resume program,” Worf instructed, and the dots of light resumed flickering in and out of view.

Spock watched as Worf returned to his target practice. “Captain Kirk conveys his greetings,” Spock remarked.

Worf nodded in acknowledgement, preoccupied with shooting into the swirling lights.

Spock raised his own phaser with a measured hand and fired into the darkness. The blast hit a blue dot precisely on target.

Worf glanced over at Spock in surprise. Finally, he said, a little awkwardly, “I thought Vulcans were pacifists. Why did you join Starfleet?”

Spock lowered his phaser and regarded Worf for a moment. “I have found that there are things worth fighting for. However, I joined Starfleet simply because I was not needed on Vulcan. I could likewise ask you why you are in Starfleet rather than the Klingon Imperial force."

“Because no Klingon had ever done it before,” Worf replied, shooting another dot in mid air.

Spock nodded. “Being first is not an easy task, but you have done well.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Spock took aim and shot a yellow dot.

Worf hesitated again, but this time he spoke confidently - “Why did you argue for my admission to Starfleet Academy? I was not aware of any other Vulcans taking your ‘logical’ stance.”

“There were not,” Spock acknowledged. “Vulcans have been content to keep to themselves, perhaps for too long. The Federation’s policy of non-interference is based in Vulcan philosophy. However, I have found that it is not always the best way. We are members of the Federation, and it is our duty to contribute to its development.” 

“I see,” Worf replied, though he clearly did not. He fired at a few more dots, hitting two of them.

“Humans sometimes forget that the Federation represents other species as well as their own. You have played an essential role in reminding them.”

“The Klingon Empire is not part of the Federation,” Worf protested.

“It is not. However,  _ you _ are a member of the Federation, and if the Klingons are to remain our allies, we ought to treat them as allies. There is still much mistrust between the Klingon Empire and the Federation.”

“But Klingons are not humans.” Worf hesitated. “It is not easy to be a Klingon and a Starfleet officer.”

“But that may change with time. Your presence alone has managed to ease some of that mistrust.”

“Captain Picard and Commander Riker have also contributed.”

“Yes, my congratulations to Captain Picard for being named the Klingon Arbiter of Succession. I must wonder why he was chosen.”

Worf straightened his posture in defense of his captain. “No Klingon could be trusted to be impartial, and, as a Klingon, there is no one I would rather I have at my side.”

“He is remarkably analytical and dispassionate,” Spock acknowledged.

“Though he is a human, Captain Picard is honorable and brave.”

“Fascinating. I have found an almost Vulcan quality in your captain, you describe him as possessing Klingon virtues, and Mr. Data sees him as a role model in his quest to be more human.” Again, Spock raised his phaser and fired at a green dot.

For a little while, they stood in silence as Worf returned to his target practice.

Spock took another shot before he asked, “Do you intend to transfer onto the  _ Enterprise-E _ ?”

“I do not know,” Worf said. “I have benefited from my time on the  _ Enterprise _ , however perhaps its destruction is a sign that I should consider another path.”

“Would you return to the Klingon Empire?”

“Perhaps that is where I belong. Maybe I have been away for too long. Do you regret leaving Vulcan?”

“No. But I am only half Vulcan.”

“My son is three quarters Klingon, but he would not belong in the Empire.”

Spock nodded. “There are disadvantages to having such a proud heritage.”

“He would be happier on Earth with my parents.”

“The Rozhenkos?”

“Yes.”

“I met them when they were petitioning to adopt you. They appear to have done well.”

“They are very human, but they did not attempt to make me less of a Klingon.”

Spock almost smiled. “As an ambassador, it is easy to forget the individuals that make up the galaxy. I am pleased to have finally had the opportunity to meet you.”

“Thank you, sir,” Worf replied stiffly.

* * *

“Shouldn’t be more than 3 hours now,” La Forge declared.

Riker leaned back in his chair and took another gulp of coffee.

Time of day didn’t exist on a starship like it would on a planet’s surface, but in the  _ Farragut _ ’s quiet recreation room, it felt like they were in the middle of a long nighttime vigil. A handful of officers sat at scattered tables, looking out on the stars through a wall of windows. Over-bright lights were the only thing keeping the inky black of space at bay.

Kirk stood at the window, watching the bright blue orb of Uranus in the distance, making its long orbit around the sun. He could feel Spock observing him from the table, where he sat with La Forge, Riker, and Worf. A few feet away, he could hear Data tuning his violin.

Each time Jim had returned to port, he had thought it would be the last. At least he wouldn’t be trapped behind a console this time, but still he could feel a sense of unease roiling in the pit of his stomach. The sight of the planets was by then a familiar foreboding of what was to come. He wondered how much had changed on Earth while he was gone and how much had stayed the same.

Spock hesitated, torn between joining Jim at the window, beckoning him to return to the table with the others, and leaving him to his thoughts.

Before he had a chance to decide, Riker asked the table at large, breaking them both from their thoughts, “What are you going to do first when you get down to Earth?”

“You mean after all the paperwork?” La Forge retorted.

Riker waved it off. “The paperwork can wait. First, I’m going to do some sightseeing. Deanna and I were talking about going to Yosemite - I haven’t been in ages.”

The memory of the last time Kirk and Spock had been at Yosemite flashed across their bond, not entirely pleasant. Aloud, Spock said, “I do not recommend the rock climbing.”

Riker turned to him with a grin. “You used to rock climb?” he asked, incredulous.

“I do not need to have attempted it to know that it is inadvisable.”

“It would be an interesting experience to go to Yosemite now that I am capable of experiencing emotion,” Data remarked. He looked up at the others as he spoke, but continued tuning his violin without pause.

“I’m sure,” Riker said, “Though I didn’t exactly mean it as an invitation...”

“Don’t worry, we won’t crash your date,” La Forge said. “First we have to check in on the  _ Enterprise-E _ , right Data?”

“Yes, and then I would like to go to the International Art Gallery to see how the emotion chip influences my experience.”

“And maybe we can drop by Yosemite later,” La Forge suggested. “I’m sure we’ll have plenty of time.”

“What about you, Mr. Worf?” Riker asked.

“Alexander and I are going to visit my parents,” Worf said shortly.

Riker turned to Spock - “What are you and the captain going to do?”

“The captain has little choice in the matter,” Spock replied. “The President of the Federation expects to meet him at the transporter terminal in San Francisco.”

Kirk tore himself away from the window and made his way over to the others. “I thought we were going to Georgia first and then deal with all the pomp and circumstance,” he said as he sat down beside Spock.

“You were briefed on the plan.”

“I know.” Kirk waved it off. “At least we’ll get it over with.”

Spock could feel Kirk’s intention. “I do not believe the president would be pleased with my presence, as I remained on Romulus against direct orders.”

“We just have to make it clear that they’re not getting one of us without the other.” Kirk fixed Spock with a look that challenged him to argue, but made it clear that he would make no headway.

“As you wish, Captain,” Spock replied, equal parts appreciative and exasperated.

Kirk and Spock watched each other, as though in silent conversation, but nothing more concrete than feelings passed through the bond. 

His tuning done, Data began to play, slow and quiet and first, and then steadily faster and faster, until the rec room echoed with a flurry of notes rushing to and fro like the push and pull of the ocean.

“Data, maybe something a little cheerier?” La Forge suggested as the melody rose to a dramatic peak.

The music stopped at once. “My apologies. Would this be more fitting?” Data asked and jumped straight into a bouncy pastoral tune.

“Sure,” La Forge said with a smile.

Meanwhile, Riker glanced between Kirk and Spock. “How did you two manage for all those years? You got together when you were still serving on the same ship, right?”

“Yes,” Spock replied.

Kirk shot Spock a grin before answering Riker, “Not much changed. We both knew the  _ Enterprise _ came first.”

Spock raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“Well, usually,” Kirk admitted. “Outside of extenuating circumstances.”

“Such as Ambassador Spock’s death?” Data confirmed without missing a note. “According to the record, you were court-martialed for stealing and destroying the original USS  _ Enterprise _ in your attempt to retrieve him from the Genesis planet.”

Kirk sighed. “Yes, like that. But I wasn’t the only one who made some inadvisable rescues” - he glanced over at Spock with a wry smile.

Spock’s eyes widened in a suggestion of innocence.

Kirk brought the conversation back around; “What can I say? We worked well together.”

“I can see that,” Riker said with a grin.

“I’m still surprised you and Captain Picard get along so well,” Kirk remarked.

Riker shrugged. “I think we make a good team. He’s still my superior officer, but I’ve found that I don’t mind leaving the big decisions to someone else.”

Kirk and Spock exchanged a glance of shared disbelief.

“You didn’t seem to mind leaving things up to me,” Kirk pointed out.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “Your logic was usually sound and when it was not I could often convince you to take a more logical course of action.”

“You weren’t this stubborn before you started meeting with the Klingons,” Kirk teased.

“Klingons do not tolerate insubordination,” Worf insisted.

“I have found that a good leader, regardless of their species, will yield to logic when confronted with it,” Spock said.

“A true Klingon never yields!” Worf exclaimed.

“As much fun as this debate is” - Riker pushed himself to his feet - “I think I’ll go get my trombone. Data, mind if I join you for a duet?”

Data stopped playing at once. “Not at all, sir. There are multiple sonatas for violin and trombone, or I could adapt another piece-”

Riker cut him off with a wave. “We can just improvise.”

Data nodded. “I have studied several improvisatory techniques, though I have not attempted them since acquiring my emotion chip. In the past I have always found my playing to be lacking, but maybe that has changed.”

Kirk could tell Spock was thinking about his lyre - left at his father’s home on Vulcan, though one could be replicated. Kirk gave him a little mental nudge, actually bumping up against Spock’s shoulder for emphasis.

Spock gave Kirk a look, but it was not long before he turned to Data and asked, “Might I join you as well? I have some experience playing the Vulcan lyre.”

“Of course, sir,” Data said. “As a human would say, the more the merrier.”

Spock inclined his head in gratitude and went over to one of the replicators to acquire a lyre while Data finished up the light and energetic piece he had been playing.

Riker was the first to return, bearing a trombone as promised. He sat down next to Data, held up his trombone, and took the lead with a jazzy rhythm. It was upbeat, but unlike the pastoral melody that evoked a beautiful mid-morning with sunny skies, the jazz somehow served to remind them of the night-like darkness outside the windows, interrupted only by the pinprick lights of countless stars. If only the lights in the rec-room were down fifty percent, the atmosphere would have been perfect.

Spock soon rejoined them, a simple replicated lyre in hand, but he did not take his place next to Data and Riker. Instead, he sat back down with Kirk to listen.

With each breath Riker took, the blasts of the trombone sounded over the low whine of the violin. The melody seemed to go in leaps and bounds, jumping from note to note with a forceful energy that almost made it impossible not to move in time with the music - though Spock seemed to be immune to its effects.

With a final drawn out blast, Riker fell back to just provide a rhythm while Data took the lead on violin. He bowed furiously, drawing forth a frantic stream of notes. At times it even seemed like there were two violins playing at once, when really there was only one. The melodies seemed to dance around the room, each part distinct, but inexorably intertwined with the other, like two souls woven into one. Jim felt Spock’s mind drawing him closer - but not too close.

When at last Data paused with a final flourish, Riker gestured for Spock to jump in as he and Data formed a low, steady backbeat.

Spock hesitated.

Kirk gave him another nudge with an easy, open smile. He looked at Spock as he always had, his emotions bared across his face in a strikingly human way.

As he raised the artificial lyre, Spock could feel the full force of Kirk's attention, watching him expectantly. It had been a long time since Spock had played for anyone, let alone Jim. For humans music was often considered a means of emotional expression, he wondered if perhaps he now had some inkling as to why. The captain's mere presence evoked in him so many feelings he could not begin to name let alone express.

Finally, in keeping with the jazzy theme, Spock began to pluck at the lyre. He started softly, but it soon coalesced into what sounded like a fast rain. One after another, notes seemed to fall from the lyre like droplets of water. Just as the rivulets made by one drop began to spread, another followed after and overtook them, until the whole surface shimmered with lively movement.

When at last he slowed to a stop, the others, led by Kirk, of course, erupted into applause. He raised his eyebrows in skepticism, but he could not conceal his pleasure from Kirk.

While Spock had been playing, he hardly noticed the arrival of Captain Picard, who had joined Kirk, Worf, and La Forge at the table to listen. Now that they had stopped, Picard spoke up, “I haven’t heard traditional Vulcan lyre music since” - he stopped, realizing the memories he referred to were not his own. “I’ve never actually heard it played. Could I request something?”

Spock glanced at Riker and Data for permission to play a solo. Riker gestured for him to go ahead.

“I will play a meditation by Solkar,” Spock said.

“He was one of the Vulcans who made first contact with Earth,” Riker remarked.

Spock nodded, but his attention was fixed upon Picard. “He wrote many meditations for lyre. This is the one which I recall Sarek playing most frequently.”

With that, Spock raised his lyre once more. This time, he began by turning the dials on the frame to produce a low whistle. Then, he drew his hand across the strings, making ripples in the steady flow of sound, first up and then down. He played low and then echoed it high in a sort of call and response, slowly drawing closer and closer to meet in the middle, so that one voice was almost indistinguishable from the other. He turned up one of the dials so the whistle rose to a low howl and then faded back into silence. 

As a proper meditation, it was not met with applause.

After a moment’s silence, Picard remarked, sounding somewhat uncertain about the knowledge that was not his own, “It’s a meditation on the duties of an ambassador.”

“Yes,” Spock said, “It is intended to encourage reflection on contact between two disparate worlds.”

Kirk grinned in understanding - to a Vulcan, contact connotated a meeting of minds.

“Thank you,” Picard said. “I only shared a small connection with Sarek, but in a way he’s still a part of me.”

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, before turning to Data. “I have never seen anyone use your bowing technique.”

“I have found that it allows for optimal precision and efficiency,” Data explained.

Meanwhile, Riker asked, “What about you, Mr. Worf? Know any Klingon operas you could sing?”

“Only the bravest warriors dare perform in operas,” Worf replied, apparently serious.

“Why’s that?” La Forge asked.

“Unlike human opera, the combat is real.”


	8. Chapter 8

Kirk, Spock and Picard materialized in front of Starfleet Headquarters - looking largely as it had eighty years ago - surrounded by a swarm of reporters. Spock was in his Vulcan robes and Kirk and Picard wore the most formal dress uniforms.

Kirk barely had time to take in the scene before he was greeted by a humanoid of a species he didn’t recognize with an almost snoutlike face, whose head was covered by a close fitting scarf. He had been briefed well enough to recognize him as the current President of the United Federation of Planets. The president held out a gloved hand and Kirk took it with a wry smile - he knew this photograph was the real reason he was here.

“On behalf of the United Federation of Planets, welcome back, Captain Kirk,” the president said, without relinquishing his hand.

“It’s good to be back,” Kirk said, and he meant it - even just being back on Earth was better than the Nexus.

Finally, the president turned to Picard and shook his hand as well. “And on behalf of the Federation, thank you for returning Captain Kirk to us.”

Spock was content to go largely ignored.

When the official greetings were complete, the press surged forward to bombard them with questions. Kirk only caught a few of them out of the din: “How does it feel to be back?” “How did you do it?” “Who will command the new _Enterprise_?”

One reporter who had clearly done her research called out, “Did you use another Genesis device?” 

Finally, Kirk spoke up. “I wasn’t actually dead,” he explained. His amplified voice carried over the reporters, who almost immediately fell silent. “I was just in stasis.”

“Why did you stage your death?” a particularly outlandish reporter demanded.

Kirk frowned. “It wasn’t on purpose. As far as I can tell, when the _Enterprise-B_ was damaged, I fell into a sort of temporal nexus, which kept me in stasis until Captain Picard found me.”

“How did you find him?” another reporter asked.

“It was largely an accident,” Picard said - they were starting to stray dangerously close to classified information about the Nexus.

“Captain Picard, you also found Captain Scott. It can’t be a coincidence,” a reporter insisted.

“What else could it be?” Picard retorted.

Before he could press further, another reporter spoke up, “Captain Kirk, what are your plans now that you’ve returned? Will you take over the command of the _Enterprise-E_?”

“No,” Kirk replied firmly, “I’m still retired.”

“What will you do then?” she insisted.

He could feel Spock’s eyes on him. “I haven’t decided yet,” Kirk answered at last.

* * *

Picard departed as soon as anyone let him. He gave Kirk a sympathetic look before hurrying away as Kirk was ushered into another meeting.

When all of the “urgent” official business was finally done, the Starfleet Chief of Staff showed Kirk and Spock to the main transporter in Starfleet Headquarters by way of a grand tour. After a prolonged series of polite thank-yous, Kirk and Spock stepped onto the transporter pad and dematerialized at last.

They arrived in the humid late afternoon on the grassy lawn just outside a small wooden cabin. Behind the cabin was a sprawling peach orchard that rustled lazily in the gentle breeze. It looked almost the same as it had last time Jim visited, as though it really had just been a few weeks instead of eighty years. If anything, maybe the trees looked a little smaller, as though he had moved back in time rather than forward - according to Spock, this was another generation entirely.

Jim took his time meandering up the walk - delaying the inevitable - so Spock led the way to the door and knocked. Jim had been so surprised the first time he visited Bones there to find that there was no bell to ring and that the door even had a wooden handle to turn instead of opening automatically.

Jim could hear someone moving inside, he may have even caught some familiar good-natured grumbling, before the door swung open to reveal a wizened old man. All at once, Jim was hit with the full force of eighty years. He could only wonder what had happened to his old friend, even though he very well knew, had been expecting it even.

“Spock!” Bones exclaimed - it was undeniably him, though his hair had turned white, the skin on his face was folded in deep wrinkles, and he was bowed over with age. “I thought you’d run off somewhere!”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him, but gave no reply. Instead, he waited as Bones’s gaze wandered over to Jim.

The old man froze. For a long moment he stood there, staring at Jim with wide eyes. “Why I never…” Bones said at last. He glanced over at Spock. “Is it really him?”

Spock inclined his head.

Bones turned back to Jim, staring at him as though somehow he could force the world to make sense. Jim echoed the sentiment.

“You must be the luckiest man alive,” Bones finally declared. “You don’t look like you’ve aged a day!”

Jim attempted a wry smile, but he was sure it turned out weak. “Just a few days.”

“And you’ve got your memories back and everything,” Bones marveled. He turned to Spock again. “How did you manage it?”

“ _I_ didn’t,” Spock replied.

“What do you mean you didn’t?” Bones demanded, glancing between Jim and Spock.

“The credit goes to Captain Picard of the USS _Enterprise-D_ ,” Spock explained on Jim’s behalf - he was still reeling from seeing his old friend like this.

“Last I checked, we humans weren’t capable of bringing back the dead,” Bones insisted.

“Jim did not die,” Spock said. “He fell into a temporal rift where he did not experience the passage of time. Captain Picard merely located him.”

Bones just shook his head. Abruptly, he seemed to realize they were all still crowded around the front door. “Well don’t just stand there,” he insisted. “Come on in.”

Bones waved Jim and Spock into the deceptively familiar living room, though Jim couldn’t help but notice that a few modern conveniences had snuck in amidst the old-fashioned furniture. Bones settled into his chair and Jim and Spock sat down side by side on the couch, not quite touching.

“You must have known Jim was alive all along, didn’t you?” Bones asked Spock with an almost accusatory tone.

Spock merely raised an eyebrow at him.

Jim intervened as he always had; “He didn’t expect me to come back any more than you did.”

Bones faced Jim as though he had forgotten he was there. “You’re not the only one who hasn’t changed,” Bones admitted at last.

Jim gave him a small smile. “That’s a relief.”

“You really were stuck in time?”

Jim nodded. “It feels like it hasn’t been more than a few weeks since my last visit.”

Bones looked at Jim, really looked at him, as though he could see through all the things Jim wasn’t saying. Finally, Bones said, “It must come as a shock, seeing me like this.”

“You could say that,” Jim acknowledged.

“I’m sorry, Jim. But don’t go feeling bad for me. I’ve been enjoying being back on solid ground, and I’ve still got plenty of years left in me.”

"That's good," Jim said, though he didn't sound entirely convinced.

“There’s nothing I like better than sitting out on the porch with one of my mint juleps, watching the trees grow,” Bones attempted. “I think I’ve earned a little rest and relaxation after all you put me through.”

Jim gave Bones a look - it sounded more like wasting away than relaxing to him.

Bones waved it off. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand what you like so much about running around out there” - he shook his head for emphasis. He glanced over at Spock and asked, “When do you launch? I’ll see you off if you have to beam me up, though I expect a shuttle, and one of the nice ones.”

Jim looked at Spock, who merely raised an eyebrow in reply.

He could feel Spock’s resistance, but despite it Jim said, “I don’t think they’ll give us a sendoff when we leave for Romulus.”

“Romulus?” Bones demanded.

Jim nodded. “That’s where Spock’s been for the past three years, teaching the Romulans about Vulcan philosophy in the hope that eventually they’ll reunite. He’s going back, and I’m going with him.”

Jim could feel Spock’s malaise; he didn’t want to discuss it in front of Dr. McCoy, but he still refused to allow Jim to join him.

“And here I thought talking with the Cardassians was bad enough!” Bones exclaimed. “Jim, what would you do on Romulus?”

“Keep him out of danger for one” - Jim jabbed a finger in Spock’s direction.

Spock could keep quiet no longer. “As I have already made clear, you will not be accompanying me to Romulus.” He hesitated. “If necessary, I will remain on Earth.” Spock’s regret for not remaining with Jim for his first retirement came through the bond loud and clear.

“I’d rather go to Romulus alone than stay on Earth,” Jim retorted.

“What’s all this talk about staying on Earth?” Bones demanded. “It better not be on my account; the two of you would drive me up a wall!”

“I’m retired, remember?” Jim said.

“You’re too young to even be thinking about retirement!” Bones insisted.

"You weren't that much older than me.”

"It’s different and you know it! I was never meant to leave the ground, but Spock couldn't stay retired and nor should you. If you know what's good for you, you'll accept the first offer they give you and don't look back until you're at least a hundred."

"Bones," Jim cautioned.

Bones waved it off. "I know. I know you retired for a reason. My memory isn't that bad. But it's a new century, maybe it's time to stop living in the past."

Jim skeptically glanced around the very old-fashioned cabin.

"You know what I mean.”

Jim nodded, though he wasn't happy about it.

"I know it's not easy," Bones said with a sideways glance at Spock, “but somehow you managed to get a second chance - again - and I’d hate to see you waste it. Now,” he continued more lightly, “how exactly did you cheat death this time, if not Vulcan hoodoo?”

Grateful for the change in topic, Jim explained, “I got stuck in some kind of temporal nexus. It was like a strange dream; I thought I was at my uncle’s old cabin” - he glanced over at Spock with a smile, remembering the last time they had been there together before he sold it.

Spock answered with his own memory of the bitter cold of the Idaho winter - the rest of his feelings were carefully shielded away.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Jim insisted, resting a reassuring hand on Spock’s shoulder. “You liked relaxing by the fire, at least.” That was the last proper winter Jim could remember; the rest of the time he’d been in space or San Francisco.

“I’m still here, you know,” Bones piped up. “You could show an old man some respect.”

For an instant, Jim expected to see a man not much older than sixty sitting across from him. Not for the first time, he had to do a double take at the sight of Bones’s wrinkled face and white hair. “Sorry,” Jim said at last, much subdued.

Bones drew Jim back to the conversation with a sympathetic nudge - “Then what happened?”

“I wasn’t there for long,” Jim continued, “at least it didn’t feel like very long before Captain Picard found me, though it took a little convincing to get me to leave,” he admitted.

“Jean-Luc Picard?” Bones confirmed. “I always liked him. A good captain, though he needed a little polishing.”

Jim nodded. “He’s a good pick for captain of the _Enterprise_. Though Spock doesn’t like him very much.”

“He didn’t manage to talk any sense into you?”

“No,” Jim said. “But he agrees with you.”

Bones nodded in approval. Then he turned on Spock. “And why don’t you like him?”

“I am surprised that you do,” Spock replied. “I have found he has an almost Vulcan quality.”

“Next you’ll be telling me to read Hamlet in the original Vulcan,” Bones retorted.

Spock raised his eyebrows at Dr. McCoy. “Such a narrative would be highly uncharacteristic of Vulcan literature.”

* * *

“I’m not going anywhere, if you need someone to knock some sense into you,” Bones offered good-naturedly.

He stood with Jim and Spock in the middle of the living room as they waited to be transported back to San Francisco. Outside, the sky had long since turned dark while they finished dinner and spent a few more hours just talking.

“It’s good to see you,” Jim said with a smile before he and Spock dematerialized.

They reappeared in the over-bright transporter room at Starfleet headquarters. The Representative of United Earth on the Federation Council met them right off the pad and led them back through the winding hallways. It was still early evening in San Francisco, so Kirk and Spock enjoyed a second sunset on their way to the apartment that had been provided for the returned captain. The representative welcomed them inside a penthouse suite, much more spacious than Kirk’s old apartment, furnished in what must have been the 24th century style, though it wasn’t quite as beige as the _Farragut_.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” the representative said, “and if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.”

After another round of polite assurances and good-byes, she finally took her leave. The door slid shut behind her and all of a sudden the apartment seemed enormous and silent. For a moment, Jim and Spock just stood there, in the middle of the large, almost empty room, between blank walls. Inevitably, Jim was drawn to the far wall made entirely of windows looking out on the city and the bay, and, of course, the deep blue sky, studded with a few bright early stars.

Slowly, with almost uncharacteristic cautiousness - a reminder of the distance between them - Spock made his way over to the window, to stand at Jim’s side, so their arms barely brushed against each other. Jim purposefully brought their hands together, so they were just touching, enabling their thoughts and feelings mingle as much as Spock was willing to let them.

Finally, Jim asked aloud, “Would you really rather stay on Earth?”

Spock hesitated. He shielded his side of their bond, but Jim could feel his uncertainty and longing seeping through. It had been a lonely eighty years. Even with their renewed bond, he was reluctant to leave Jim on Earth again.

Jim took Spock’s hand in his own and gave it a solid squeeze. _Let me come with you._

Spock’s discomfort with the idea came through loud and clear.

Jim loosened his hold on Spock’s hand, but he did not let go.

He did not know for certain what thoughts passed through Spock’s mind, but Jim could feel him warring within himself, torn between two unsatisfactory alternatives.

“Would you truly be happier on Romulus?” Spock asked at last.

“Yes,” Jim said without even needing to think about it, and Spock knew him well enough to believe it.

Later that night, when they lay in bed, the lights dimmed to zero percent, Spock remarked, “You have been offered a captaincy.”

Jim tensed a little. Spock had withdrawn from his side of the bond until his thoughts were almost unreadable. Jim tore his eyes away from the stars outside the open window and rolled over to face Spock with a little distance between them, so he was no longer pressed against Spock’s side.

“I have,” Jim said, ready for the conversation to end there.

He could see Spock debating whether to press or withdraw. Jim even felt a small burst of muddled emotions; all the uncertainty of a man no longer used to expressing them, let alone sharing his feelings with others.

Jim reached out to rest a hand on Spock's wrist, just below the cuff of his long-sleeve nightshirt. "Goodnight, Spock," he said softly.

Spock did not argue. He let the tension slowly fade away. "Goodnight, Jim," he said at last. In the light of the moon and stars, and the tireless city, Jim could see Spock's gentle expression that was not quite a smile.

Jim took it as an invitation and snuggled up to Spock. He leaned into Spock's side, with an arm around his chest, and his nose just an inch away from Spock's cheek. Jim let out a sigh of contentment, just enjoying the proximity. Spock's body heat staved off the cool breeze wafting in the window and he radiated steady affection through the bond.

* * *

The next day was bright and brisk with a distinct feeling of spring - not that it actually meant anything in San Francisco. Jim had suggested a walk in Golden Gate Park, but with all the publicity that came with a miraculous return from the dead, it was deemed inadvisable. Instead, they took a Starfleet shuttle to one of the many hills that peeked out of the city, forming little islands of parkland in a sea of buildings. It was quiet and peaceful with a splendid view, just a little small for wandering around.

After a quick circuit around the edge of the hilltop, Jim and Spock stopped at the most scenic point to look out on the city. Houses sprawled out around them, parading up and down the sloping roads. In the distance they could see Starfleet Headquarters and the Golden Gate Bridge and in the other direction were the skyscrapers of downtown. Beyond was the sparkling bay and beyond that rolling hills.

Jim couldn’t deny that it was a nice place to visit.

“It will not be easy living on Romulus,” Spock cautioned him.

Jim just gave Spock a look.

Spock continued undeterred, “I have spent the past three years traveling from town to town, living in underground caverns. At times food has been scarce. I have not seen daylight for weeks at a time.”

“I know.”

Spock hesitated. “I am acting against direct orders. In all likelihood, Starfleet would not accept you if you returned.”

“Spock,” Jim said, a little louder and sharper than he intended, “I know what I’m getting into.”

Spock raised his eyebrows at Jim in disbelief. “Are you certain that you will be happier on Romulus?”

“Of course,” Jim said. “You know I don’t belong on Earth.”

Spock waited. Jim’s omission was too glaring to be ignored.

Jim glanced away. “I had my chance.”

“You have been offered another,” Spock reminded him.

Jim just shook his head.

He could feel Spock retreating in surrender even as he pressed, “It will be dangerous.”

Jim gave him a wry smile. “That’s why I can’t let you go alone.” There was some weighty truth behind his words, but they both knew his motivations weren’t purely selfless.

“And what do you intend to do when I am not in immediate danger?” Spock asked.

Jim shrugged. “It has to be more interesting than retirement. We could play chess, maybe I could pick up the Vulcan lyre.”

Spock gave him a skeptical look.

More seriously Jim suggested, “I can represent the Federation. For Romulus and Vulcan to reunite, there would have to be some understanding between the Romulans and the Federation.”

“Very logical,” Spock said drily.

“Always the tone of surprise,” Jim teased. He let his shoulder bump up against Spock’s. Gently, Jim said, “Don’t worry.”

Spock made it clear that he did not miss the hypocrisy in Jim’s suggestion, but he did not protest.

* * *

Jim sat in the dimly lit living room, staring out the window. The sparkling city below seemed to reflect the star-speckled night sky above. The city was much brighter, but Jim only had eyes for the stars. His cold mug sat forgotten on the coffee table.

Spock hesitated a few feet away, watching Jim in his silent vigil, reluctant to interrupt it. He cradled a fresh, hot mug of tea between his hands, letting the warmth and the heady aroma of familiar spices wash over him. Out the window, he could see a bank of clouds advancing in the distance, threatening to come between the city and the stars above, covering it in a thick grey blanket.

He was tempted to return to the bedroom without a word and settle into his nightly meditation. Jim would not mind. But this was too important to be indefinitely put off and avoided.

Finally, Spock made his way over to the couch and sat down next to Jim. Jim scooched a little closer, but otherwise made no move to acknowledge him.

“Jim,” Spock said aloud at long last.

Jim startled at the noise, shockingly loud in their otherwise silent apartment. He turned to face Spock, suspecting what he was going to say and none too happy with the prospect. _I will go with you to Romulus_ , he projected forcefully over the bond.

Still, Spock forged on. “Would you truly be happy there?”

“Yes,” Jim insisted, letting his gaze wander back to the window and the stars above. They would be together. It would not be easy, but what was life without a little challenge?

Spock hesitated. “I once said that captaining a starship was your first and best destiny. You have been offered a captaincy on your own terms. Would it not be most logical to accept it?”

Jim glared at him, though it lacked any heat. More pointed was his frown and the ghosts of memories best left forgotten.

“Jim,” Spock reproached him gently.

Jim just shook his head.

Spock waited, watching him expectantly, but he did not pressure him to continue. His expression remained impassive.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Jim said at last. “Of course I’d be happier in the captain’s chair, but that’s not an option.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him.

“You know what I mean,” Jim insisted.

“There will also be danger on Romulus,” Spock pointed out.

“I know that!” Jim snapped. He was shaking a little from the sheer force of his emotions. Spock could feel them pounding at the bond.

Spock rested a hand on Jim’s arm, though he did not dare touch bare skin.

Jim looked at him, almost pleading. “It was too much. I can’t be responsible for something like that again.”

The image of Spock dying, pressed against the glass, flashed across their minds with a powerful wave of guilt.

Spock tightened his grip on Jim’s arm. He stared until Jim met his eyes. “Jim, I am alive” - he conveyed as much of his presence as he could through the bond.

Jim gave him a weak smile. “I know.” He was still shaking a little. Spock could still feel the waves of unsteady emotion radiating off of him.

Spock pressed his hot mug of tea into Jim’s hands and allowed Jim to nestle himself into his side. Unable to stand to acquire a blanket, Spock draped his arm around Jim’s shoulders, drawing him closer still.

Spock felt woefully out of practice, but he could feel Jim relaxing as he settled against Spock’s chest, and the waves of affection that echoed through the bond likewise soothed Spock’s concerns, at least for the moment.

* * *

Jim glanced up from the history book he was reading.

Spock was ostensibly knitting, in the Vulcan style apparently - a hobby he had picked up on Romulus where he spent a lot of time waiting and often lacked easy access to replicators. However, he was engrossed in something else entirely. Jim could sense a heavy reluctance as Spock warred within himself, torn between unappealing options. He kept his thoughts carefully concealed behind mental shields, but Jim didn't know what else Spock could have been debating.

Spock raised an eyebrow at him and strengthened his shields.

But Jim was not so easily deterred. He put aside his reading and inched a little closer to Spock. He rested a hand on Spock’s arm.

“You followed me for twenty years, maybe it’s my turn to return the favor,” Jim suggested with a smile.

Spock made it clear that he thought Jim was missing the point. He let nothing else seep through the bond as he organized his thoughts.

“I want little more than to remain at your side,” Spock admitted at last, and Jim could feel the weight of eighty lonely years behind his words. “It would be most convenient for you to accompany me to Romulus; I would be able to continue my work without requiring us to part ways.” He hesitated. “However, I fear that it would be a grave mistake.” Spock looked Jim firmly in the eyes, as though he could see through them into Jim’s mind, to understand things even Jim himself did not fully comprehend.

Jim knew what he was suggesting and just shook his head.

“Jim,” Spock attempted.

Jim let out a sigh. “Spock, I can’t,” he insisted. They had been over it already and he was tired of arguing. He would never have another command, there was no use in dwelling on it.

Spock hesitated. He did not want to argue, to bring back such painful memories. Even as he disputed Vulcan philosophy, he still reflexively shied away from emotion in favor of logical arguments. But this debate would not be won with logic. _Jim deserved better._

Spock forced himself to confront the matter directly. “Jim,” he said aloud, “You do not belong on Romulus any more than I belong in the captain’s chair. This is my doing, allow me to help.”

Jim answered with disbelief and reassurance that it was not Spock’s fault. Less confidently, he asked aloud, “What could you do?” It had been seven years since Spock’s return from the dead, not counting the additional eighty that had passed while Jim was in the Nexus, and the memory was still enough to convince Jim to remain in retirement.

Spock raised a hand toward Jim’s face in response, his fingers splayed to match Jim’s familiar psy points.

It was Jim’s turn to hesitate. Unpleasant memories swirled in the back of his mind - he wasn’t sure he wanted them reawoken. But he trusted Spock, if anyone could help, he could, and if he couldn’t, then at least he would understand, and maybe that would be enough to ease his doubts about bringing Jim to Romulus.

So, at last, Jim nodded and inched a little closer. Spock pressed his warm fingertips to Jim’s face and let their minds crash together as though they were meant to be one.

Spock kept a careful handle on the meld, ensuring that their identities were not lost, as he searched for the source of Jim’s trauma. He dove past memories of an uneasy retirement; a meaningless life in a lonely apartment, and the tossing and turning that led up to the decision.

His approach slowed as he neared the psychic equivalent of scar tissue left from the broken bond. Jim had spent two years in an empty daze as Spock had ever so slowly gotten his memories back. Jim’s memory of the time was grizzled and angry around the edges and his mind echoed with desperation - _Not again, don't let it happen again_.

It would have been easier for Spock to pass through Jim's memories without engaging, but he was not there as an impassive observer.

_I am here_ , Spock insisted. _We are safe._

Jim’s mind attempted to order itself. He knew he was not there - they were both safe, sitting on the couch in the living room of their new apartment in San Francisco - and yet, it was easy to get lost in memories, especially as Spock drew him into them.

Spock continued deeper still, to the source of the wound, the scene that had replayed itself in Jim’s mind over and over and over, like a mantra, or like the blood spilling out of an open wound. The bond had healed, but the memories were still raw with emotion.

The only logical thing to do was to start at the beginning:

_“Scotty, I need warp speed in three mintues or we’re all dead!” The admiral is desperate. They’re running out of options._

_There is no response from engineering. Spock knows what is wrong, and there is only one solution. It will cost him his life, but he can save the others._

_(No! Not again! We can find another way!)_

_(It is just a memory.)_

_Spock stands with all the determination of a desperate man and leaves the bridge. He proudly marches down to engineering._

_(Jim smiled as he stepped onto the lift on the Enterprise-B, ready to do whatever it took to save a ship that was not even his own.)_

_Dr. McCoy attempts to dissuade him._

_(Please! Don’t let him go! I need him!)_

_(I am here.)_

_He is efficiently disabled. Meanwhile, the situation looks increasingly desperate on the bridge._

_Spock presses his fingertips to Dr. McCoy’s psy points. “Remember.”_

_Then, he enters the chamber, fully knowing what it will do to him - he must act quickly._

_“Engine room! What’s happening?” the admiral shouts into the intercom, but goes unheeded._

_(Get up! Go! You have to stop him!)_

_The admiral does not move. He does not know._

_Spock struggles with the cap._

_(No! Spock! Don’t!)_

_(I am unharmed - after a fashion.)_

_He is buffeted with noxious gas and radiation besides. Undeterred, he reaches into the core. He will save them all, even as it kills him. He will not let them die._

_On the bridge, Sulu voices what they are all thinking; “We’re not going to make it, are we?”_

_(There has to be another way!)_

_(Yes, there was. And you found it.)_

_Spock’s work is almost done..._

_“Sir, the mains are back online!”_

_(No!)_

_(If not, we all would have died.)_

_“Go, Sulu!”_

_In their wake, the Genesis planet is born._

_“Jim, I think you’d better get down here.”_

_The admiral sees the empty chair._

_He runs down to engineering like a man possessed._

_(It’s too late… Too late…)_

_(But it wasn’t.)_

_He freezes._

_(Get him out! Bones can still do something! There has to be some way!)_

_(You found a way.)_

_(Too late!)_

_The others stop him from running headlong into the chamber._

_“It’s too late, Jim.”_

_“SPOCK!”_

_He presses against the glass, calls out to him in every way he knows how._

_He is still alive, but he is dying. Even dying, he moves so carefully._

_“Jim. Out of danger?”_

_“Yes.”_

_Spock nods. “Don’t grieve, admiral.”_

_(Do not grieve.)_

_“It was logical. The needs of the many outweigh…”_

_“The needs of the few.”_

_“Or the one.”_

_“Spock…”_

_Together, they fall to their knees._

_“I have been and always shall be your friend.” Spock presses his hand to the glass. “Live long and prosper.”_

_Jim presses his hand to Spock’s, but they cannot touch._

_He can feel his breaths and heartbeats are numbered. He sits and falls against the glass. His only regret is the grief he leaves behind._

Jim waited for the emptiness, three long years of it...

Spock let their minds surge together at last in an overwhelming rush of _not alone_ and _whole_ . A turbulent swirling mass of contradictory emotion raged and ravaged, but its overwhelming power was nothing against the _rightness_ of two minds made one.

Jim collapsed into Spock’s arms, tears streaming down his face - Spock detected some wetness under his own eyes, but he paid it no heed. He held Jim, shaking and possibly still sobbing in his arms, as though he could protect him from his own memories. He did not know if he had helped or made things worse, but now all he could do was attempt to soothe Jim with his presence and the knowledge that he had not failed all those years ago.

Spock rubbed circles into Jim’s back as all the pain, and sadness, and guilt, and anger came pouring out of him, as though the wound had been opened anew. Spock could only hope that they drained away instead of festering.

Eventually, the outpouring of emotion slowed and Jim's breathing steadied. He lingered in Spock’s arms, savoring the warmth of his body and the even rhythm of his breath. There was no wall between them, though Spock’s shields had returned.

Finally, Jim pulled away, though he kept a hand on Spock’s arm to steady himself. With Jim’s unspoken permission, Spock stood and retrieved tissues and a glass of water, and put up some water for tea.

Jim gave Spock a watery smile as he returned, grateful if a little embarrassed.

Spock merely gave him a look - there was no cause for embarrassment - and let an apology seep back through the bond.

Jim shook his head. He was adamant that Spock had done nothing wrong.

He blew his nose and gulped down the water. When he finally felt a little more presentable, he leaned back against Spock's chest and let his eyes fall shut. His tired mind still jumped from memory to memory, few of them pleasant, but they were more distant now and he gave no indication that he desired Spock's assistance - for which Spock was ashamed to say he was grateful; he'd had more than enough emotion for one day. Jim appeared likewise drained.

Once Jim was comfortable, Spock settled into a meditation of his own to the steady rhythm of his hand massaging Jim's shoulder. The shared sensation brought their minds a little closer together, even as their thoughts remained separate.

Dinner was a quiet affair that evening, though to all appearances Jim made for cheerful and charming company. They turned in for the night early and when they lay down to sleep, Jim clung to Spock as he had when his memories had just returned; as though if he did not hold on tight enough, Spock would not be there in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

Jim was subdued and contemplative for the next few days. He talked easily with the various officials that came to visit the famous captain, returned from the dead, but when he was alone with Spock, he was unusually quiet and serious. He made no indication that he wanted to talk about it, so Spock did not impose - he had done his part for better or worse and would push no further.

One evening, as they were preparing for bed, Jim spoke up. "There's nothing I can do," he said ruefully, but he did not sound defeated.

Spock waited for him to continue, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Jim sat down on the bed, and once Spock was dressed, he sat down facing Jim, with just a few inches between them.

Only then did Jim continue, “Maybe I could have beat Khan - raised the shields sooner, somehow kept him from getting the Genesis device - but I would probably do it all the same if I tried again.” He shook his head.

Spock looked him firmly in the eye. “Like all mortal beings, you at times make mistakes.”

Jim frowned and Spock could feel his displeasure at the sentiment, but he could not deny it. “There’s definitely nothing I can do about it now,” Jim admitted.

“If there had been another option, I would have taken it. Under the circumstances, I do not regret my decision,” Spock said, though that didn’t stop a feeling of guilt from seeping through the bond.

Jim nodded. He didn’t like it, but again he couldn’t argue. “No one else could have survived in there long enough to do anything. If we just had more time… But we didn’t. If you hadn’t done it, we would have all died, and then there wouldn’t have been anyone left to bring you back.” He gave Spock a weak smile.

“A very logical appraisal of the situation,” Spock said, almost cautiously. For all of Jim’s well-reasoned logic, a powerful malaise bubbled beneath the surface.

Spock reached out a hand with the vague intention of resting it on Jim’s arm, but Jim instead took Spock’s hand in his own, letting his unspoken feelings rush through the contact.

“Jim,” Spock said gently, with just a tinge of uncertainty as he tried to convey some kind of apology for everything he had put Jim through, even though he would do it all again in a heartbeat if Jim’s life was in danger.

Jim cradled Spock’s hand between his own, savoring his soft touch and the steady warmth that emanated from within. If Jim pressed his fingertips to Spock’s wrist, he could feel Spock’s heart racing at a Vulcan’s resting speed.

There was some distance between them, not a wall, but he could still feel Spock’s reticence, and Jim was still a little lost in memories. And yet, the warmth Jim felt through Spock’s hand was not only physical; there was also a great affection, restrained as it was, and a desire to do right by him and to mend what was broken.

Spock waited and watched him in silence, allowing Jim to take his time, almost afraid to upset the balance he had already disturbed.

The memories still haunted Jim, but he wondered if maybe the solution was right in front of him. He squeezed Spock’s hand and let his eyes fall shut to savor all of the soothing warmth that radiated from Spock. In return, he tried to answer all of Spock’s concerns with gentle reassurance. They had made it this far, there was little doubt they could figure out everything else.

He could feel a trace of a smile flash across Spock’s lips that was echoed on his own.

* * *

“It’s absurd,” Jim said. He was sitting on Bones’s couch, under the cynical eye of his old friend. “How old am I?”

“Sixty,” Bones retorted.

“And eighty years out of touch,” Jim said, with a wave of his arm for emphasis. “I’m like one of my old antiques.”

"And what does that make me?" Bones demanded.

"I don't know," Jim said with a sigh. “You seem to enjoy retirement.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Bones wagged his finger at him.

Jim shook his head. “I shouldn’t even be thinking about returning to Starfleet, all I’d get is a desk job - or worse, publicity. They’d figure out pretty quick I’m too old to be of use anywhere else.”

“You damn well know that’s not true,” Bones snapped. “You’re just trying to talk yourself out of the most sensible decision you’ll ever make.”

Jim gave him a look. More seriously, he said, “Bones, I can’t go out there again.”

“Why the hell not?” Bones insisted. “You can’t tell me you’d rather follow Spock on his fool mission to Romulus, because we both know that’s not true.”

Jim let out another sigh and leaned back, letting his eyes wander up to the ceiling. “What if it happens again?”

“I’m sorry to break it to you, Jim, but everyone dies eventually, whether you’re exploring out there or wasting away down here,” Bones said, but his voice had lost its edge.

“It’s not that simple,” Jim protested.

Bones gave him a look of disbelief. “You always knew there were risks.”

“I know, but I didn’t really believe it. I always assumed we’d come out alright.”

Bones nodded. “Sometimes it felt like I was the only one taking things seriously.”

“But after Spock died…” Jim trailed off, unable to put it all into words.

“Toward the end there, I was worried you’d get yourself killed waiting for him to get his memories back,” Bones said quietly.

That just about summed it up. “And I tried again, but it just wasn’t the same.”

“They didn’t give you a chance,” Bones retorted. “And then Spock wandered off to try and make peace with the Klingons.”

“At least he was making a difference.”

Bones hesitated. “How are things with Spock? I can come up to San Francisco and knock some sense into him.”

“It’s alright.” Jim waved off the suggestion with a small smile. “Things are actually going well. The past eighty years haven’t been easy on him, but he’s been very supportive. He agrees with you that I should go back to Starfleet.”

“Damn right he does!”

* * *

“You never were quite the same,” Jim remarked.

He and Spock were sitting on the couch in the living room of their apartment, Jim ostensibly reading and Spock meditating as he kitted again. But Jim had given up on reading a while ago in favor of watching Spock.

His words jarred Spock out of his meditation. He put aside his knitting and waited for Jim to continue, regarding him with his full attention.

“After you came back,” Jim explained. “You were never so... independent before. I know you only accepted that captaincy because I pushed you into it, but you finally found something that’s yours.” He smiled at Spock with open admiration.

Spock inclined his head in acknowledgement, but remained more reserved. “I merely did what needed to be done,” he said, but they both knew it was more than that.

“You don’t really need me any more,” Jim said, his voice deceptively light.

Spock fixed him with his firmest look. “You may no longer be my commanding officer, but I have been and always shall be your friend.”

At the familiar words, Jim felt a rush of warmth, and a little shame at his accusation.

Spock held out his first two fingers to Jim, who reciprocated the gesture, brushing their fingertips together so sparks flew down their spines and danced across their minds. When they drew apart, they sat in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, letting the other’s presence echo in their mind.

Spock was the first to speak, slow and cautious; “I was under the perhaps inaccurate impression that my presence was insufficient to aid in your recovery from the broken bond - that you required something that I could not provide.”

“I don’t know what I need,” Jim admitted. “But your presence helps.”

The lonely years of his last mission and his subsequent solitary retirement lingered unspoken between them. Jim could feel the weight of Spock’s guilt.

Jim rested a reassuring hand on Spock’s shoulder. “We’ve both had more than our share of loneliness.” Jim hadn’t intended to be missing for eighty years, but when he left the bridge of the  _ Enterprise-B _ he half expected not to survive at all.

“Would you like for me to serve as your first officer again?” Spock asked hesitantly, and maybe even a little reluctantly, but if Jim needed him, he would do anything.

“I don’t know,” Jim said. “There’s nothing like the good old days, but I don’t know if I could bear the responsibility. And I would hate to keep you away from Romulus.” He shook his head. “I don’t even know if I really want to go back out there.”

They both knew Spock’s opinion on the matter, so he did not bother to voice it.

Jim picked back up his reading and scootched over so he could lean against Spock’s chest, comfortably in the way of his knitting. Spock obligingly put an arm around Jim’s shoulders.

* * *

Kirk and Spock met Scotty at the Starfleet transporter terminal. He bounded over to them as soon as he materialized, looking no older than when Kirk had last seen him on the  _ Enterprise-B _ .

“Captain!” Scotty exclaimed, greeting Kirk with an outstretched hand.

“I’m not a captain anymore,” Kirk attempted, but he went ignored, probably for the best.

Scotty gave his hand a firm shake. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you again, Sir. I thought for sure you were dead.”

Kirk smiled. “You know I don’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

“Of course, Sir. And, Mr. Spock, it’s good to see you too. You didn’t get stuck in a temporal nexus too, did you?”

Spock shook his head and raised a hand, his fingers splayed in the formal Vulcan greeting. “Live long and prosper, Mr. Scott.”

“I intend to,” Scotty replied. He turned back to Kirk. “I came as soon as I heard, it just took a wee bit longer than expected. I had to hitch a ride on three different starships just to get back to the solar system.”

“You didn’t make it all the way here on the little shuttlecraft Picard gave you?” Kirk teased, as he led the way out of the transporter bay and into the hallway of Starfleet Headquarters.

“No,” Scotty said. “She’s a good craft, but even with the modifications I made to the engines, she’d still have taken a few years to make it to Earth.”

“I’ve been reading up on your adventures. It sounds like you’ve had quite the time.”

Scotty nodded. “And before you ask, I’m happy exploring in my own little craft. Anyway, you need a bright young chief engineer who can keep up with all your crazy demands.”

Kirk hesitated. “You know I’m still retired.”

Scotty gave him a look. “Have they not offered you a ship yet? Just point me to the head of Starfleet and I’ll give them a little talking to!”

“It’s not that,” Kirk said reluctantly. “They’ve offered, I just haven’t decided whether I want to accept.”

“You have a better offer?” Scotty asked skeptically.

“Maybe,” Kirk said with a glance over at Spock.

Spock made his disagreement known, though his expression remained impassive, and Scotty glanced between them both in disbelief.

“Don’t tell me you’re going to become an ambassador,” Scotty said.

Kirk shrugged. “Something like that. It’s a possibility at least.”

Scotty just shook his head.

Kirk and Spock led Scotty around Starfleet Headquarters, making a token attempt at an official tour as they talked.

“Things really have changed,” Scotty remarked. “Out there, it doesn’t feel like it’s been so long, but down here…” he trailed off.

Kirk nodded in understanding. “Have you seen Bones?”

“No, I’ve been meaning to visit since I found out he was still around, but it’s such a hassle to come back to Earth with the shuttlecraft,” Scotty explained. He sounded a little sheepish.

“He’s doing well for a man of his age,” Kirk said with a subdued smile.

“If any of us had it in him to live this long, it would be Dr. McCoy,” Scotty said. “Not to mention Mr. Spock here with his Vulcan constitution. You really haven’t aged at all in the last eighty years.”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him. “I feel my age, if more slowly than the average human.”

“Tell me when your hair turns grey,” Scotty retorted.

“The process has already begun.”

Scotty gave Spock a look of disbelief, before he turned back to Kirk. “It’s not so different once you get used to it, even the engines haven’t changed too much. Though they’ve become sticklers for regulation, at least they did on the  _ Enterprise-D _ .”

“Captain Picard does it by the book. But the galaxy sure has changed since we made peace with the Klingons.” Kirk glanced over at Spock in acknowledgement.

“I don’t know,” Scotty said, “I’ve just been in my little sector, but space seems the same as it always was.”

“Good. There’s still plenty left to explore?”

“Of course! And it’s good to be back.”

Kirk nodded. “It is good to be back.”

* * *

Kirk rang at the door to Picard’s temporary office in Starfleet Headquarters.

“Come in,” Picard called out.

Kirk stepped inside. His office was large and mostly barren, like Kirk’s office on Earth had been before the paperwork started piling up.

“Oh, Jim, there you are,” Picard exclaimed, glancing up from a PADD. “For a moment I thought you were here about another personnel transfer. Have a seat.”

Kirk took the chair on the other side of Picard’s desk, as though he was there for a meeting. “How’s it going?” Kirk asked as he made himself comfortable.

“Well. It’s a lot of work, but slowly but surely it’s all coming together.” Picard spoke like a true captain, proud of his ship even before it was off the ground. “Have you been down to the construction site?”

“No,” Kirk admitted. “But I should.”

Picard hesitated. “If you’re still on Earth, I would be honored if you would give us a send-off.”

Kirk could only remember the last time he agreed to be there for the inauguration of a new  _ Enterprise _ \- not so long ago from his perspective.

It must have shown on Kirk’s face, because Picard added, “Only if you want to, of course. I know you’ve been getting more than your share of attention.”

Kirk smiled a little. “Just as long as you go out with a full crew and a functioning ship.”

“Of course. That’s standard procedure after the disastrous launch of the  _ Enterprise-B _ …” Picard trailed off as he realized that was why Kirk had mentioned it. “There’s no danger of that happening again,” Picard reassured him.

“I wouldn’t mind jumping ahead another eighty years, but I don’t think Spock would be too happy about it.”

“No, I imagine not. How have you been doing on Earth?”

Kirk shrugged. “Alright, getting settled in, catching up with old friends.”

“Yes, I heard Captain Scott arrived recently.”

Kirk nodded. “We also met up with Bones - Admiral McCoy. Otherwise, Spock and I have been sorting things out.”

“Is Spock going to go back to Romulus?” Picard asked, his disapproval clear.

Kirk just smiled. “I couldn’t tell you if he was.”

Picard frowned. "Well, tell him that there are officially sanctioned channels for diplomacy if he wants to communicate with the Romulans. He can't just go around trying to alter the development of sovereign civilizations."

Kirk knew better than to attempt to argue with either of them. Instead he asked, "Are all of your senior officers staying on?"

"All except for Commander Worf," Picard said, but he was not so easily deterred. "You're not planning on going with Ambassador Spock, are you?"

Agan, Kirk could only smile. "Mr. Worf's transferring?"

"No, he decided he needed some leave for personal reasons.”

Kirk nodded. “Spock mentioned that Mr. Worf has a son.”

“He does. And it’s not easy being a Klingon and a Starfleet officer.” Picard turned the topic back to Kirk - “What are you planning on doing next?”

“I’m not sure,” Kirk admitted with a sigh. “I’m actually considering returning to Starfleet,” he said, as though it was a crazy idea.

“As a captain?” Picard confirmed.

Kirk answered with a wry grin, “I wouldn’t let them promote me.” But he quickly turned serious. “I don’t know. I know you won’t believe me if I say I’m too old, but it feels like I’m pushing my luck.”

“If you volunteer, I can promise you no one will turn you away. Starfleet needs captains a lot more than it needs admirals right now.”

“That’s what I’m worried about.”

“What does Ambassador Spock think?” Picard asked a little reluctantly.

“ _ Everyone _ thinks I should accept any captaincy I can get. I’m the only one who isn’t so sure.”

“It’s hard to argue with that.”

“They’re starting to convince me.” Kirk hesitated. ”But last time I was in command it didn’t go too well...” he trailed off.

“You can’t know what will happen until you try,” Picard suggested.

“You’re right.” After a moment’s pause, Kirk asked, “What would you do if you weren’t captain of the  _ Enterprise _ ?”

“Me?” Picard asked. “I don’t know. One day I suppose they’ll promote me, or I’ll have to retire, but that still feels a long ways off. I don’t really belong back on Earth, tending the old family vineyard. I considered joining the Atlantis project after everything with the Borg, but my heart wasn’t really in it.” He turned the question back on Kirk - “What else would you do?”

Kirk shrugged. “I tried teaching at the academy a little after I retired. I could follow Spock into enemy territory or pick up a shuttlecraft like Scotty.”

Picard looked unconvinced.

“None of them really compare, do they?”

“I wouldn’t say so,” Picard replied.

“You think they’d give me an exploratory mission?”

“If you asked for it, they might even give you the  _ Enterprise-E _ , though I would prefer if you didn’t ask for it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Kirk said with a mischievous grin.

* * *

Jim stood on an outcropping overlooking the green, forested hills, dotted with light brown patches of dried out grasses. He could see the winding path that he and Spock had taken up to the low peak. It was good to get out of the city. At least out in the wilderness, they were free from prying eyes and curious reporters.

They had mostly hiked in silence, occasionally communicating through the bond, but Jim had largely been left to his own thoughts. He could feel Spock’s curiosity and concern, but he was willing to watch and wait, ready to intercede only if Jim needed it.

Jim beckoned Spock onto the outcropping, to share in the view and Spock obliged even though he could see it clearly enough through the bond. Jim snuck an arm around Spock’s waist and they stood there in silence a little longer, just enjoying the view. Despite his heavy coat, it was a little chilly for an aging Vulcan out in the open with a steady breeze, but Spock didn’t mind so much as Jim leaned into his side.

Finally, Jim shot Spock a wry smile. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”

Spock raised an eyebrow at him in feigned innocence.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to come with you to Romulus?” Jim asked one last time, even though he very well knew the answer.

“Frankly, it would be a waste of material,” Spock replied with a trace of a smile of his own.

Jim sighed, though he appreciated the compliment. Even if he went to Romulus, if something happened, there wasn’t anything he could do.

Spock met Jim’s eyes. “The last thing I want to do is to prevent you from  _ living _ .”

“I know,” Jim said. “I’ll miss you.”

“And I you,” Spock said.

Jim leaned in to kiss Spock on the lips at the same time as Spock reached out with his first two fingers. Their lips and fingertips pressed together simultaneously in a soft, warm embrace.

* * *

“I’ve changed my mind,” Kirk announced. “I’d like to reactivate my commission - with a few conditions.”

“That’s great,” the admiral exclaimed. “I know you’re used to commanding the  _ Enterprise _ , but-”

Kirk cut her off with a wave. “The  _ Enterprise _ belongs to Captain Picard. I just want a ship and a star to steer her by.”

“The  _ Constitution _ is almost done being refitted, I can arrange a tour immediately.”

“My only conditions are that I want an exploratory mission, as far from Starfleet Command as possible, and I won’t accept any promotions.”

“We can work with that,” the admiral said.

She held out a hand for him to shake and he took it.

* * *

“A toast,” Bones declared, holding up his glass, “to cheating death.”

The others raised their glasses with a cheer and clinked them together.

“It is highly improbable,” Spock remarked with a fond glance at Jim.

Scotty clapped Jim on the back. “If anyone could do it, we could.”

“We all had to become miracle workers to put up with your crazy plans,” Bones added.

“I hope the new crew is up to it,” Jim said.

“Don’t be too hard on them,” Bones cautioned. He turned to Scotty - “You decided you’ve finally had enough?”

“I was ready to retire then, I’m still ready now,” Scotty said. “It’ll take a younger person than me to keep up with Captain Kirk. You’re happy to be back on the ground?”

“I’ve had more than my share of outer space, thank you very much,” Bones said. “I must have been mad to stay out there as long as I did.” He rounded on Spock - “You’re really going back to your fool’s errand on Romulus?”

“I intend to return to Romulus,” Spock replied, careful not to confirm the rest of Bones’s statement.

Bones just shook his head.

“What are you doing on Romulus? I thought for sure you would have stayed on as first officer,” Scotty exclaimed.

“I have my own mission, educating the people of Romulus in Vulcan philosophy so that one day the two societies can be reunited,” Spock explained.

“Good luck,” Scotty said. “It sounds like you’ll need all the luck you can get.”

“Thank you, Mr. Scott.”

Scotty leaned back in his chair and remarked, “After peace with the Klingons, peace with the Romulans suddenly doesn’t sound so far-fetched.”

“We’ll all have to band together to handle the Borg,” Jim added.

Scotty shook his head. “Somehow it seems like it was all simpler when we were just at war with the Klingons, but maybe that’s just the nostalgia speaking.”

“It wasn’t simple then and it isn’t now,” Bones retorted.

“A very efficient appraisal of the situation,” Spock intoned. “For a doctor, your understanding of galactic affairs is remarkable.”

“Just because I’m retired doesn’t mean I don’t have ears,” Bones snapped.

“Gentlemen,” Jim interrupted with a smile, “Can you agree with each other without turning it into an argument?”

“What will you do with a ship full of obedient young officers?” Scotty put in. “You’re liable to get bored.”

“Yes,” Jim said, “I’ll finally get some peace and quiet.” Without thinking, he glanced over at Spock and met his eyes. They would be apart for a long time, but the galaxy was waiting for them, and they would never truly be alone.

* * *

Captain Kirk sat in the center of the bridge. The new chairs leaned back too far, so he perched on the edge of his seat, watching the stationary stars on the viewscreen ahead. On his right was his ambitious young first officer, and on his left was the ship’s counselor. Around him, officers hurried to and fro, preparing the ship for launch. They all looked so young, fresh out of the academy. He could hardly imagine they were ready for a mission, even their first.

_ We were younger _ , Spock remarked over their bond. For an instant, Jim glimpsed the interior of an underground cavern, no doubt on Romulus.

Kirk just shook his head in disbelief.

“Starfleet Command says we’re clear to launch,” the communications officer reported from the terminal just above the captain's chair.

“Good,” Kirk said. “Helm, take us out of here, slow and steady until we’re out of the solar system.”

They gradually pulled away from planet Earth, past the moon and the reddish sphere of Mars, and then they turned up, peeling away from the asteroid belt. They got a final glimpse of the sun before rocketing off, toward the stars.

_ Space: the final frontier. These are the voyages of the USS Constitution, on its continuing mission to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, and boldly go where no one has gone before! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who made it all the way to the end! This story has been on my mind for a long time, and I hope you enjoyed the final result as much as I enjoyed writing it!  
> There's a little epilogue based around [Star Trek: Nemesis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21540607) if you want to see where Kirk and Spock go from here!
> 
> It’s been an incredible one and a half years of practically non-stop Star Trek. I have a few shorter stories waiting to be posted and I’m really excited about the longer story I’m working on for this year’s T’hy’la Bang that will come out in June! However, otherwise, my thoughts have largely turned to my other loves; Sherlock Holmes and a new addition, Jeeves and Wooster.
> 
> I don’t want to stop writing Kirk and Spock, but to keep it up, I need your help: if there’s anything you want me to write, send me a prompt! It can be anything from a specific scenario, to a song that makes you think of them, or even just a word, and I’ll write a short fic. (The only rule is, as usual, no sex.)
> 
> As always, thank you all very much for reading!


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